


Something Human

by NikkiSage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bobby Singer in a Wheelchair, Childhood Friends, Dean is In Over His Head, Dean/Cas Reverse Bang 2019, DeanCas Reverse Bang, Ellen Harvelle and Bobby Singer are Dean Winchester's Parents, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Law school!Sam, Married Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Multi, Slow Burn, Young Winchesters (Supernatural), cyborg AU, cyborg!Cas, detective!dean, modern dystopia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-01 19:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19184305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikkiSage/pseuds/NikkiSage
Summary: Cyborgs have been dubbed the greatest advancement of biomedical engineering, and many would describe them as revolutionary and extraordinary. Dean Winchester, however, has his own choice words about them and that is that they're friggin' creepy. Now his brother might say that his "cyborgphobia" is a mixed result of some adolescent trauma bullshit and the circumstances around their father's death, but Dean's pretty sure his squeamishness is more to due with the fact that they are human corpses that are running on computer software. They're a B rated horror movie just waiting to happen!The last thing Dean expects is to end up harboring a renegade Cyborg--which besides being crazy and reckless is also very much illegal. Even though Dean should be turning C45-T-L over to the proper authorities, he just can't seem to go through with it. Cas is different than his robot brethren, and it's not just because he can talk, has horrible posture, and a strange obsession with origami. It's because when Dean looks into his eyes he doesn't see a cold machine looking back, but instead he sees something familiar in those eyes; curiosity, excitement and loneliness. He sees... Well something human. And to him that's worth protecting.





	1. The Walk

**Author's Note:**

> I am so happy that I get to finally share this fic with all of you. This has both been my first ReverseBang as well as my first ever Supernatural fic, and I had such a fun time with it! I really hope you have as good of a time reading it as I did writing it.
> 
> Now this fic wouldn't be possible if it wasn't for three amazing woman:
> 
> First I like to thank NovemberNovac for being an awesome beta! This amazing human being took her beta series super seriously and actually printed out all of the chapters so she could go through it. That was 105 pages! I will never forget the sacrifice she and her printer made. She also was amazing and spotting inconsistency that were easy to miss, and helped make the story stronger.  
> Second, I want to thank my roomie, who's encouraged me during this whole process. Whether it was making sure I got to submit my claim as soon as it hit 10 AM, to anxiously watching the claims happen, to kicking my ass so that I stayed on top of my writing, and finally for reading this whole sucker out loud in a course of a weekend so I could spot last minute mistakes. She even did voices! Couldn't ask for a better roommate!  
> Last, but most important of all, is my wonderful artist Deancebra. Without her, this fic would literally not exist. I am so honored that I got her piece (which was actually the first piece I saw that really captured my attention, and I knew immediately it was going to be on my top 3 list). I loved the surrealism of the art, the amount of texture and detail that went into it, and the amazing prompt that went along with it. My only fear was whether or not I could bring justice to her vision. I also have to thank her for letting me spam her with drafts, and for her complete faith in me when I decided last minute to try to turn this fic into a 50K ish fic. I really couldn't have asked for a better artist. Also she gave me a cheat-cheat to figure out how to import everything! And didn't mind me being spastic. Seriously I couldn't have asked for a better artist and I'm so lucky to have worked alongside her.
> 
> If you haven't checked out Deancebra's stuff out before, I highly suggest you do. She's an amazing artist and writer, so please show your support on both archive and her tumblr. To see her all of her amazing art for this fic please check out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19178092
> 
> Be warned though, some of her art on this page has illegal levels of cuteness. Side effects include squealing and inability to stop smiling.

*

 

**The Walk**

If John Winchester could see Dean now, he would undoubtedly be disappointed in his son. If Dean had to die, it should be in a hail of gunfire or some sort of badass explosion or some other mark of heroics. Not this. Despite his intensive training and years in the police force, nothing could have prepared him for something as horrific as this. He had handled the first half-hour of torture with a cocky smile on his face, the first hour with some mild annoyance, but now going on the third hour with no end in sight was too much for even him to handle. Dean could feel his hearing go in and out of focus, and his eyes felt heavier, threatening to close forever. But he couldn’t just go out without some fight left. He had to at least say goodbye and apologize to his brother first.

Carefully reaching into his pocket, barely daring to breathe in fear of getting caught, he pulled out his cellphone and quickly scrolled through until he found Sam’s contact information. It only took him a few seconds to figure out how to let his brother know what had become of him.

_/Sammy/_

_/I’m so proud of you, but I don’t think I can make it much longer/_

_/I held out as long as I could but this is too much for even me to handle/_

_/Remember me as I was. Your awesome, handsomer big brother/_

To his surprise, his brother’s response came through before he had the chance to drift off to blissful unconsciousness.

**/Stop being so overdramatic/**

**/It’s only a graduation ceremony/**

Insulted, Dean hurriedly replied back. / _Just a ceremony? We’ve been here for over 3 hours! And we haven’t even got to the diploma crap yet. You’re a W!/_

**/Your last name is a W too. And we’re almost to the Commencement speakers now/**

**__** _/There’s still more talking to go?!/_

Dean felt a sharp stab in his ribs and grumbled a complaint. “Hey!” 

“Maybe you should stop texting and at least pretend to pay attention to the graduation?” The pretty blonde next to him hissed. 

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention, Joanna Beth, instead of reading over my texts?” Dean challenged, raising a brow. 

Jo opened her mouth to argue but then slumped further into her seat. “Okay, but in my defense this speaker is really boring. It’s much more interesting watching the Winchester show.”

“You got that right, princess.” Dean winked, just as another text came in from Sam, who pretty much told him that he was already getting strange looks from the people around him and he should stop texting. 

_/What’re they going to do? Kick you out early from graduation? Don’t they mail out the real diploma anyway?/_

**/Jerk./**

Dean started to type out _/Bitch/_ when he felt a hard slap get delivered to the back of his head. “Oww. Seriously, is this abuse Dean day?” He snapped, glaring at a suspiciously innocent Jo who just shook her head and pointed to the seat behind him.

Dean swiveled, ready to give that seat occupant a piece of his mind, but the complaints died in his throat when he remembered that the person sitting behind him was easily the scariest person he ever met. His surrogate mother, Ellen.

“Dean,” she growled, and Dean felt a tremble go down his spine like he was still that young boy who just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. “You put that phone away and leave your brother alone. This is a serious occasion and neither one of you needs to be missing a moment of it because you two are too busy gossiping.”

“Oh, come on, Ellen,” He said, giving her his most charming smile. “It’s not like we’re missing anything important. Just another rich fart going on and on about his own success.”

“How would you know if you don’t pay attention? It’s not everyday you go to a law school graduation; let alone one at an Ivy league school.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile and nod at that. He really was proud of his younger brother. Despite their rough upbringing and personal tragedies, here Sam was graduating from Cornell Law at 30, surrounded by his family—both blood and adopted. Yeah it took the kid longer than he originally expected, and the last five years had been particularly tough, but together he managed to pull through his grief and got back onto the path he wanted to be. 

“Yeah,” Dean smiles, looking back at Ellen and then to her right where his Uncle Bobby sat. “We raised him pretty well.”

“If you don’t stop yer blabbering, the next thing I’m going to raise is my foot up yer ass,” the ever-elegant Bobby proclaimed. Dean refrained from pointing out that Bobby was wheelchair bound now, and thus could no longer raise his leg for said threat. “Looks like something big is going to happen.” 

His surrogate father was right, the current speaker kept darting his eyes behind the curtains and was growing anxious. “Now without further ado, I would like to introduce you to this year’s Commencement Speakers: Mr. and Mrs. Zachariah and Naomi Adler, representatives of Synapse-Base Technologies!”

Two young figures marched out from the curtains, followed closely by a finely dressed, older couple, although the wife was at least ten years younger than her husband. The younger two were both male, looked between the ages of eighteen to twenty, and had an unearthly quality to them that made the hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stand on end and the old scar on his left arm to tingle. It was the way they moved; stiff and with calculated motions, their rigid stance, the eerie way they didn’t blink, and the fact they barely breathed. Dean didn’t even need to look closely at their eyes to see the faint, luminescent blue light that shone underneath, or catch a glint of metal from their fingertips. He knew right away what they were. Cyborgs. 

He heard whispers around him and saw people pointed excitedly at the young robot hybrids, as if they were entertainers instead of war machines that could kill you faster than you could blink. Hell, Sam was probably having a nerdgasm himself. The freak knew far too many intimate details about Cyborgs for anyone’s comfort, especially the 3L Units. Even from this far away, he could make out the flashing numbers that ran across their armbands which designated their identity. The shorter kid was a 5443L model, which Dean was unfamiliar with, and the other was of course the notorious 1643L model. 

_“Did you know that 3L are the strongest model of Cyborgs?” An eleven-year-old Sam had once asked him. “So get this, they have like reinforced steel bones in them and are pretty much bullet proof. And they can lift 100x their own weight! Not to mention they have the fastest programing. The other models aren’t as strong and resilient as them, and that’s why 3Ls are the best models for security detail and why they are ‘government grade’. At least Dad would be—”_

Dean forced himself from sinking any further into that memory and instead focused on the elderly man who was now approaching the microphone. 

“Hello, Cornell graduating class and family! Now this is a huge honor for my wife and myself,” the man gestured at his much younger wife and then back at himself. “Not only is Cornell both of our alma maters but this is actually the 100th year anniversary of Synapse-base Technology and the creation of our first cyborg software, the M16K43L.” Most of the audience clapped loudly, some of them even shouting cheers, but Dean refused to be impressed. Mr. Adler, however, ate up the applause and smirked wider. “We also like to introduce our brand new 3L model, the 54M4NDR3L unit. Now there’s only one of him right now, but soon he and his copies will be distributed and replace our previous C45T13L unit.”

This time the audience reaction was not in the favor of Adler, as people began to murmur about the previous model. There were many speculations of why SynTech had to decommission an entire unit of Cyborg software, especially since it was the first time in their century of operations to do so.

“I still think one of the ‘bots ganked someone.” His adopted sister whispered cryptically, stretching over Dean so that she could mutter into his ear, hoping that her mother wouldn’t catch it. 

“Joanna Beth,” Ellen reprimanded, her hearing still sharp as ever. “You’re too old to be coming up with conspiracy theories.”

“Hey, I’m not the one thinking they’ll all go Terminator like Dean here!” Jo complained, ignoring Dean’s squawk of disagreement. “I’m just saying that they’re sure keeping the real reason under tight security. And the only time you ever find that much red tape is if there’s a dead body to go with it.”

“Or multiple,” Dean chimed in, disregarding the dark glances he was getting. “Hey, who is the homicide detective here? I know a thing or two about dead bodies.”

“Oh please, you’re a detective in a small city while I’m a cop in one of the largest,” Jo bragged. “I’ve probably seen more dead bodies than you by now.”

“This is not the appropriate time to talk about _work_.” Ellen hissed. “I taught you both better manners than that.”.

They both whispered their apologies to her before returning their attentions back to the stage to listen to the hackneyed speech of Adler the Bald… Wait, was it just Dean’s imagination, or was the M16K43L looking right over at them? It looked like it was trying to stare right into Dean’s soul.

“Now despite all of the good that SynTech has brought to this country in the past hundred years, we do still have our limitations,” Adler said sadly. “We have the software, but we don’t have the… human touch that the Cyborgs need to fully function.”

His younger, totally-not-a-trophy wife nodded, taking over the rest of the speech. “Exactly and that’s why we encourage everyone to please go to your primary care physician and schedule an appointment to be tested to see if you are compatible with the A.N.G.E.L. software. If you are compatible, please look into becoming a Vessel Donor. It costs nothing, and the government will provide you and your family the best health and life insurance policy that money can buy. Once you live your natural lifespan, your body will be donated to SynTech and will be fitted with the proper software.”

Dean tensed, and Jo cursed beside him. “Are they even allowed to talk about this in public?” She asked, but Dean had no answers.

“Now I know this can be a sensitive and somewhat controversial subject, but I beseech you to not think of this as a topic about death and mortality, but as a question of the differences you can make in both this life and the next,” Naomi stated, turning to the two young Cyborgs. “Now I’m going to do something a little unorthodox and give you some background on the Cyborgs we have here.”

She first pointed to the newest model, the 54M4NDR3L. “His Vessel’s name was Alfie. He was a young freshman studying at culinary school. He was a bright, and innovative student who unfortunately decided to experiment with some… lethal ingredients at a party.” 

Her husband chuckled. “And that’s why you don’t do drugs, kids.”

Dean gripped his knees so tight he was pretty sure that he felt something pop underneath him. This wasn’t something you’d mock in front of a huge crowd. A fucking teenager had overdosed and this bag of dicks was treating it like a throwaway joke or some sort of divine justice.

“Fortunately, Alfie was a Donor and through his death was able to save many lives. 5443L, here, was recently stationed at First National Bank as a security guard and witnessed a bank robbery in process. Thanks to his quick thinking and skills, he was able to detain the three hostiles and prevent _any_ bloodshed.” 

People politely clapped in response, some even cheered, but 54M4NDR3L remained impassive. 

“This other young man was once named Adam, a sophomore in pre-med studying to be a doctor. Unfortunately, he and his mother got into a car accident when a drunk driver collided with their car. Neither one of them survived the collision, however, Adam had the M16K43L gene from his father’s side and had recently decided to sign up to be a Donor. Since then his 1643L unit has been stationed at understaffed fire departments all across the country and has rushed into fire zones that are too dangerous for normal humans. Since being on the force, he has stopped 58 large scale fires and has saved thousands of lives.” 

The cheering and applause this time was thunderous, but M16K43L paid no mind to it. In fact, he still looked like he was staring straight at Dean. 

Creepy.

“Once again we implore you to think about becoming a Donor and do your part in keeping this country a brighter and safer place. Now, we know that not everyone is compatible for a 3L, but even the lowly laborer Cyborg has an important role in this world. We all depend on them, and we all need to help out in whatever way we can.” Naomi insisted; this time the crowd didn’t seem as unnerved by the request. Except Dean. Dean was still grossed out about the idea, and that was never going to change. No matter how much ol’ 1643L was giving him a “come hither” look. Just no.

“Now let’s get onto the part everyone has been dying to see,” Zachariah, the dick, cut through. “Let’s pass out these diplomas!” 

It only took another hour to get through, but by the end of it he had at least twenty pictures—most of them could only make out a blurry, moose-shape in a black gown—and he only got hit by Ellen once more, though Jo did pinch him twice for blocking her view. Then Sam just had to go and say his farewells to his peers and his favorite professors, which was eating up even more valuable time. The Singer-Harvelle’s had to start heading towards the parking lot, so that Bobby’s wheelchair wouldn’t get caught in the herd of people leaving. Dean was tempted to follow them, but he decided to linger so the moose wouldn’t feel abandoned. By the way said moose beamed at him and engulfed him into a giant hug, Dean liked to think he made the right call.

“Thank you, Dean. You’re an asshole but I really have no idea how I would have gotten through this without you.” Sam said into Dean’s shoulder. 

“It’s no big deal S-Sammy,” Dean said, and certainly did not stutter on his brother’s nickname because he was overcome with emotion. He just had something clogged in his throat. Probably that snore he had been fighting off the past couple of hours. 

He hugged his little brother for a moment longer, before releasing him with a solid clap on the back. “Seriously, man, this was all on you. Yeah, you hit a few bumps on the road, but only you could really get yourself out of it and you did.”

“Still,” Sam said and… oh no, not the puppy-dog eyes! “If it wasn’t for you I don’t think I would have made it here. I mean look at me, I’m at freaking Cornell!”

“I know, a piece of my soul dies every minute we are on this unholy ground,” Dean snarked, relieved to see the puppy-dog eyes be replaced by one of the infamous bitchfaces. “Which reminds me; when do we get to pack up your shit and move you back to the Midwest?”

At first Dean had been concerned with Sam going away to New York for college, especially after everything that had happened his last year at Stanford. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Sam, but he felt better knowing that he was only a quick drive away from him, versus a whole day’s drive. To both their surprise, Sam adjusted to New York without any issues, but decided that once he graduated he would move back to South Dakota to be with his family again. He was going to stay in Dean’s finished basement, so he could freeload until he passed the bar exam and could practice law.

“I’m good to head—” Sam paused, eyes widening over something behind Dean’s shoulder.

“Sam?” Dean asked before he turned around—and in no way did he scream or shove his way behind Sam—to find himself nose to nose with that freaking M16K43L unit.

“He doesn’t mean any harm,” a smarmy voice called out and soon Zachariah, the Lord of dicks himself, came into view. “Though he’s usually not this friendly to civilians. You wouldn’t happen to be 1643L compatible, would you?” 

Dean paled but Sam stepped in. “Our father was.”

Zachariah’s face lit up with glee. “Oh, so he’s one of the Vessels? That makes sense. The Cyborgs can always pick up on one of their own. It’s like some sort of homing beacon.”

“Well, you can tell Tinman over here I’m not interested in being buddy-buddy with him and that I would like some personal space.” Dean demanded. 

Zachariah looked at the brothers questioningly before Sam said, “My brother has a slight phobia regarding Cyborgs.”

“Huh, you don’t see that happen often in this day and age. M16K43L, ten feet!” He ordered, like the Cyborg was just an overgrown dog. 

The Cyborg finally removed his gaze from Dean, blankly stared at Zachariah and slowly inched backwards until he was exactly ten feet away. The poor civilians behind him scattered to avoid being trampled by a ton of reinforced steel and flesh. In Dean’s honest opinion, it wasn’t far away enough.

“I’m actually glad I ran into you. You’re Samuel Winchester, correct?” Sam nodded, shocked why a powerful spokesperson for SynTech would know anything about him. “Your advisor Azazel couldn’t stop raving about you. Said you were one of the brightest minds he’d ever been fortunate enough to teach.”

“Really?” Sam said, surprised. “I didn’t realize he thought so highly of me.”

“I’m shocked myself. I’ve known him for years and that little devil doesn’t like anyone but himself,” Zachariah laughed, the sound grating on Dean’s nerves more than the sound of his voice. “I figured if that old coot thought you had talent, then you might be someone worth investing in.” Dean didn’t like the way he said that. “That’s why I’m offering you a position as one of our many lawyers at SynTech. Once you pass the bar of course.”

Sam looked shocked. “This is… a huge honor. But I’m not staying in New York. I’m actually moving back to Sioux Falls.”

Zachariah laughed again. “Not a problem, my boy. SynTech is located globally. We have plenty of branches in the Midwest. Both Dakotas, Wisconsin, Nebraska, and even Kansas.” Dean felt a shiver go down his spine at the mention of his birth state and he forced himself not to think of what happened there. 

“I’ll be sure to look into it,” Sam said politely. “But right now, I should be focusing on my exams and settling back home. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Adler.” He even offered his hand for a polite handshake, because Sam knew how to be diplomatic and shit. 

Zachariah gave Sam another creepy smile as he shook his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you in person, Samuel. We’ll be sure to keep an eye out for you in the future.” He nodded a farewell to Dean and whistled for the Cyborg to follow him out.

“That was… weird.” Sam finally said once they lost track of both the Bald and the Robotical. 

“No shit. He looked like he wanted to take you for a spin in his nondescript, white van.” Dean laughed.

“Not funny, jerk.” Sam scolded.

“It’s funny as long as you don’t take any candy from him—Ouch!” Dean rubbed at his now tender head, after taking a Gigantor hand to it. “Not cool. I can’t afford another concussion on the job.” 

“Maybe you wouldn’t get hit in the head so many times if you stopped being such an asshat.”

Sam might have a point there, but like Dean was going to give him that victory. 

“Come on, bitch. I’m sure the Singer-Harvelle family has already made it back to the parking lot by now. So let’s get out of here before the rest of the crowds descend, get some real food, and then tackle that tiny studio of yours. The twenty hour drive is a little too much for the old timers to handle in one go so we’re going to have to stay at a motel overnight, and of course Jo’s abandoning us once we reach Pennsylvania. Which means your lucky ass gets to bunk with me.”

“Just like old times,” Sam teased.

“Yeah, just like old times.”

Dean really tried not to think about it, but after seeing the Cyborgs, hearing Zachariah talk about Kansas, being in the Impala for so many hours straight with Sam, and then staying at a random motel room with Sam as his room mate again made Dean start to remember _that_ time. He tried desperately to shut those memories down, so he really shouldn’t have been surprised that they would find a way to haunt his dreams instead. 

 

_Nine-year-old Dean was bored. He thought spending the whole summer with Dad and Sammy would be nonstop fun, but so far it was the exact opposite. Dad had promised them adventures together and an awesome motel with a swimming pool. Instead, all they got was a dirty diner for dinner and an early bedtime at their pool-less motel. Then in the middle of the night/early morning, Sammy got violently ill and spent a good portion of that time crying over the toilet bowl. Dad said that he got food poisoning from the diner, and told Dean that Sammy was going to be stuck inside for at least the rest of the day and should be getting plenty of rest. Dean tried to be a good big brother and keep his brother company, but it seemed like Dean kept getting underfoot and kept annoying his father until he finally got annoyed and ordered Dean to go outside and play for the next couple of hours._

_Dean hoped that the rest of the summer wasn’t going to be this miserable, or that Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen wouldn’t change their minds about them spending every summer in Kansas with Dad. The only good thing out of this was at least they had packed their bikes from Uncle Bobby’s house before they left, so at least he could go for a ride during his banishment._

_He aimlessly rode his bike around, not thinking much about how he was passing by less houses the further he went until he finally reached a desolate area; where the only things he could see were fields of wild dandelions and a tall, wire fence. Dean stopped his bike and scrutinized the fence, curious as to why there needed to be something so massive in an area where no one was around anyway. It seemed pretty bizarre. He carefully moved closer to the fence and peered through the wire mesh, curious to see if he could figure out what secrets it was guarding. It didn’t look like anything special; it just looked like a whole lot of nothing on the other side. It didn’t stop his curiosity, though, nor did it prevent him from climbing over the fence to investigate further. There weren’t any ‘Keep Out’ signs, so Dean was pretty sure he couldn’t get in trouble over it._

_He had walked straight ahead for a good five minutes before he felt something off; a strange feeling that something was watching him. He felt the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end._

_“Hello?” he called out but received no answer. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer._

_“I-if anyone is out there, I-I’m warning you to back off! My dad is a Marine and he can totally kick your butt! I can kick butt, too. He taught me how.”_

_Dean inched forward, eyes sweeping from his nine o’clock, twelve o’clock, three o’clock, then back again—just like Dad taught him—trying to spot whatever was causing his unease. He realized too late he forgot to check his six when he felt a sudden, warm breeze across his back. Whirling around, he faced a… a woman with glowing blue eyes and a blaster gun for a right hand. A gun aimed directly at him._

_He couldn’t help but scream at the sight of the lethal weapon. As he tried to run, his legs tangled up together and he face planted in the dirt. The ground shook as the creature stalked closer, and Dean was paralyzed with fear; positive he was about to die, just like his mom. He whined pitifully when a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him onto his back. The creature looked almost confused when it took in his face, and Dean realized he was crying._

_“Please don’t kill me,” he begged. “I promise I don’t taste good.”_

_The creature studied him carefully. Abruptly, its eyes stopped glowing. The blaster gun folded into the creature’s arm and a human hand and fingers formed in the gun’s place; which she used to press a finger to Dean’s cheek, gently tracing a tear track._

_“Y-you’re not going to hurt me?” he asked, finally taking in the creature’s appearance. She had black hair pulled into a tight updo, pale skin, and vivid blue eyes. She wore a light gray trench coat that reached past her ankles and was buttoned all the way up. For a human-looking weapon, she sure knew how to dress business casual. It seemed like she was studying Dean just as closely as he was studying her._

_Very slowly, the woman shook her head._

_Dean’s eyes widened. “So, you can understand me?”_

_The woman carefully nodded her head._

_“M-my name is Dean. Do you have a name?”_

_The woman eyed him curiously before directing his attention to an armband around her left arm, which had electronic numbers slowly rotating around the cuff. 4513L._

_“You’re a Cyborg? A 3L Cyborg?” Dean asked incredulously. The Cyborg lady nodded slowly._

_“That’s awesome! I’ve seen some other models before. School brought in a 10N for an assembly once, but they said 3Ls are, like, the strongest and coolest units. Wait, why are you here in the middle of nowhere Kansas? I thought you guys were only in major cities?”_

_The Cyborg narrowed her eyes, and even though he was a little afraid of the expression on her face, he was also impressed. Their lecture stated that Cyborgs weren’t very expressive, yet the 3L was doing a decent job of conveying emotion. She glanced around their surroundings before pointing her free hand—for some reason she had not removed the one that was touching his cheek—back to where the fence was and then gestured around them, and then gestured further again into the distance. She did this a couple of times before Dean caught onto her meaning._

_“Oh, so your job is to guard this place, right? And that’s why you came after me?” She nodded. “Wait, are you going to arrest me? I swear I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed past the fence!”_

_She studied him carefully before slowly shaking her head, and Dean sighed in relief. His Dad would not have been happy if Dean ended up in the slammer before he even reached puberty._

_“What are you going to do to me then?”_

_She carefully wiped away his tears and offered him her hand. He was only a little hesitant to take it. Her hand was warm and felt like normal flesh, despite the weapons he knew she hid underneath. Once the Cyborg had a secure hold of his hand, she yanked him back up to his feet and redirected him to the fence._

_“You want me to go back home?” he asked, just to make sure this wasn’t some trick. She nodded and gently shoved at his shoulder, forcing him to stumble forward. Dean took the hint and marched towards the fence. He only stopped once to pick up a stray dandelion and held it securely in his hands until they reached his destination._

_Dean turned to the Cyborg and gave her an apprehensive smile. “Thanks for not arresting me. Oh, and thanks a lot for not blasting me with your gun! I really like being in one piece.” He offered her the dandelion as a reward._

_“I know they’re technically weeds, but my Mom used to say that they were underpresh… under appreciated because they could do a lot more than most flowers. I think they’re cooler than other flowers anyway, and I… I want you to have this. As thanks. For not blasting me.” He awkwardly trailed off as he faced the scrutiny of the robotic hybrid. Finally, she slowly reached out to grab the offered weed/flower and clutched it to her chest, as if she was afraid someone was going to steal it from her. Dean smiled wider, glad that she seemed to like his offering._

_“You know, I think you might be the coolest Cyborg ever.”_

_The Cyborg just blinked at him in confusion before pointing back at the fence with her free hand. Dean giggled and turned back to the fence and skillfully climbed over it. Once he had the metal mesh separating them again he turned back to face her._

_“Can I see you again? I promise I’ll stay on this side of the fence from now on!”_

_The Cyborg blinked again but then slowly nodded, clutching her weed/flower tighter._

_“Awesome,” Dean smiled. “Hey, do you mind if I give you a nickname? Just calling you by numbers feels weird.”_

_Once again, the Cyborg nodded, and Dean took that as her giving consent._

_“Cool. I was thinking maybe I can call you Kala?” She looked at him blankly and he quickly explained. “See, you 3L units are supposed to be the strongest of the strong, sort of like Superman, and his real name is Kal-El. Like even your name sounds similar-ish since you’re a 3L and he’s a El, and you both have black hair and blue eyes. Oh yeah, and he’s from Kansas! But, that’s a boy’s name, and you don’t look anything like Supergirl—she’s a blonde—but I know you can make a boy name into a girl name if you add an A to the end of it, like how I was going to be Deanna if I was a girl. Umm... anyway do you like the name Kala-El? Kala for short.”_

_The Cyborg stared at him blankly, processing his rant, before slowly nodding again. Dean beamed. “Great! I’ll see you later, Kala!” And he really couldn’t wait to see her again. How many other kids got to be friends with a friggin’ 3L Cyborg?_

 

Dean woke up feeling irritated and grouchy, like he always did when he remembered that stupid Cyborg. His left deltoid ached with phantom pains, an unfortunate reminder of how stupid and naïve he was to actually trust that hunk of metal. He meandered to the bathroom, not surprised to find his Hulk of a brother was already out of the room—the freak of nature was probably out on a morning run and enjoying every second of his lungs being on fire—but was glad Sam didn’t have to see him like this. Dean slowly lifted the sleeve of his left arm, grunting as the material brushed over the angry scar, and stared at the handprint branded into his upper arm. He narrowed his eyes at the disfigurement and growled at his reflection. 

“Fuck you, Kala.”

He wished he’d never met that 3L unit.


	2. Never Meant To Meet

**Never Meant To Meet**

_Dean decided that he had a future in being a secret spy after all, despite Sammy claiming that they weren’t real. Only a future spy-in-training could pull off the great heist of befriending a Cyborg for the past week, and not have either his dad or his little brother catch on._

_“Where do you keep sneaking off to?” Sammy demanded on the 8th day, standing in front of Dean’s bike with his arms crossed, doing his best impression of an adult._

_Drat, how did he get caught? And why did Sammy think he could look all tough and imposing? Dean was the big brother! He stood up straight, trying to make himself look even more imposing than the five-year-old, and crossed his arms. He even threw in a ‘I’m disappointed in your nonsense’ eyeroll for good measure. “I’m not sneaking off anywhere. Why aren’t you back in the library?”_

_Dad had gotten called away for a small bounty hunt at the next town over that he swore wouldn’t take more than two weeks to complete and that he would be home for dinner every night. Sometimes it would be at 6 PM and other times it would be 11 PM, but he at least always came back. To make sure they didn’t get bored while he was gone, their Dad found a free “summer camp” at the library for kids 4-10 that ran from 8AM- 5PM. Really it was just a nerd camp where they read stories aloud and did stupid art projects. Boring! At least Sammy really liked it. He even made friends just as geeky as he was, which meant Dean was able to slip away unnoticed to go back to the empty fields where Kala was stationed._

_Kala seemed pleasantly surprised the first time she saw him again—at least he thinks she was. Her face never changed expression, but she didn’t break out her blaster gun either, so Dean was counting that as a win._

_Together the two of them started a routine for hanging out. He would tell her about his day, which usually consisted of talking about Sammy, and then he would ask her about hers and she would respond back in blinks. He was positive she was trying to talk back to him in Morse code! That or her eyes were spasming as she tried to keep up with his own blinks._

_Then he would tell her all about Superman—since she should know about her namesake—and then talk about Batman, because you couldn’t talk about superheroes and NOT talk about Batman. Dean was pretty sure that was illegal._

_After that they would play a game of Get Off the Fence, where Dean would try to scale the fence so he could be on the same side as Kala again, and she would return him to the other side. He knew she enjoyed playing with him and wasn’t annoyed. She would give him these squinty eye looks which he assumed was her way of smiling wide._

_Once they got tired, aka Dean was half passed out on his back, they would go cloud watching. Then, it was Toss the Rock across the fence until Kala inevitably threw it too hard and it would hurtle across the sky like a shooting star. Dean gave her the applause she deserved every time; it was friggin’ awesome and he knew she felt bad for ruining the game._

_They always ended the day the same. They would find a spot with a lot of dandelions and Dean would pick the weeds and slowly weave it into a flower crown. He’d tell Kala stories about his mom and how she taught him to make crowns when he was real little. How it was tradition that they always make one whenever they saw the yellow flowers. How her hair looked like spun gold and her skin smelled like vanilla and cherries. How she was always humming while she worked on something. How much he missed her. How much he missed his Dad. How Sammy and him were alone a lot last year, until their Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen took them in._

_Kala listened attentively to all his fears and insecurities—things he couldn’t even tell Sammy—as she made a knot out of her own dandelion crown. She had yet to figure out how to make one without crushing all the petals, but it didn’t matter. At the end of the day, Dean always gave her the one he made._

_He would climb the fence, reach over and take yesterday’s crown off and put her new one on. That was the other thing, she always wore his dandelion crowns, and seeing the serious Cyborg with such a frilly accessory always made him laugh._

_Eventually, he would have to say his goodbyes, so he could ride back to the library before it closed. He had hoped that no one would notice, but he really should have known better than thinking he could trick Sammy for so long._

_“You caught me. The library is so boring, so I had to sneak out to ride my bike.” Dean said, dramatically sighing as he admitted his defeat, but made no attempt to step away from his bike._

_“Liar!” Sammy declared._

_“I am not!”_

_“Well you aren’t telling the full truth and that’s just as bad!”_

_“Why do you think I’m lying?” Dean demanded._

_“Because your fingers wouldn’t be so yellow if you were only riding your bike!” Sammy proclaimed, and even lifted Dean’s right hand to show off the dandelion residue on his hands._

_Drat, caught yellow-handed._

_“Fine. I’ve been meeting up with a friend and we play while you read your boring books.”_

_“My books aren’t boring. And I do more than read!”_

_“Fine, they aren’t boring for a baby like you.” Dean taunted._

_“Nuh-uh. Ms. Missouri said I’m reading on a fourth-grade reading level, so there!”_

_“Still doesn’t make you any less boring.”_

_“Fine, if you know something really fun then you should take me with you,” Sam replied coolly, going over to fetch his own bike and helmet. “Plus, we never get to hang out anymore.”_

_“Sure, we do, Sammy.” Dean said, but Sam shook his head angrily._

_“No! Ever since Mom died, and Dad ran away—he did run away, Dean! What else do you call him not being home for days and then leaving right away! But ever since all that, and moving in with Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen, we never really get to hang out alone anymore. At least not to play. We’re either always with them, or Baby Jo, or school, or speaking to those weird counselor people. And even if we are together you don’t talk to me!” Sammy sniffled as both his eyes and nose started to flow with running liquid. “Do you not like me anymore?”_

_Dean stepped away from his bike so fast that he accidentally shoved it to the ground in his pursuit to get to his brother, and scoop him up into his arms._

_“Aww, Sammy, it’s nothing like that I promise! You’re my baby brother and I love you, and not just because I have to.”_

_Sam opened his mouth to reply but all that came out were more sobs and he buried his face into Dean’s shoulder to cry. Dean didn’t even mind that his shirt was covered in snot and tears._

_“Shh, Sammy, it’s okay really. I’m sorry you thought I didn’t like you anymore, which would never ever be true. I just… I just thought that you were mad at me.”_

_“Mad?”_

_“Yeah because… because I couldn’t take good care of you. Because of me we almost got taken away and separated,” Dean scowled angrily at the memory. “I should’ve—”_

_“Dad should’ve taken better care of us, not you!” Sam scolded, angry enough to overcome his tears. “Even now, even though Dad promised he was going to play with us all summer, he’s still never around! And now neither are you.”_

_“I made a friend,” Dean blurted out, “that’s where I’ve been disappearing off to.”_

_“Oh.” Sammy said dejectedly._

_“No, I mean… I met her when you were sick with food poisoning,” Sam shuddered at that, probably vowing to never eat another burrito. “I didn’t think I’d ever see her again, but then Dad started dropping us off at the library, and you were having so much fun here, making friends, and I just felt like an idiot that no one wanted to sit next to. So, I started to meet up to play with her instead.”_

_“Why didn’t you just tell me about her before?”_

_“Because she’s… she’s really different, Sammy, and a little odd. I wasn’t sure if she’d like to hang out with anyone else. She’s kinda a loner.”_

_“Oh,” Sammy started to push away from Dean, “I guess you rather hang out with her then?”_

_Dean gripped Sam’s wrist gently. “Or I can introduce you? I did talk about you a lot to her, so she probably would like to meet you. I think?”_

_“You think?”_

_“Well she can’t talk, but she’s a really good listener,” Dean looked around to make sure that no one was around to overhear what he was going to say next. “Actually, she’s a Cyborg!”_

_Sam gave him one of his big-baby-faces, clearly not believing him. “If you don’t want to tell me then just say so.”_

_“No, really! Kala is a Cyborg! She didn’t even have a name.I had to name her!”_

_“Kala? What the heck kind of name is that?”_

_“Like Kal-el? You know Superman? It… uh makes more sense when you meet her.”_

_“If she’s real.”_

_“Stop that! I’m not lying, Kala really exists! Come on,” Dean ordered, carefully dislodging Sammy from him and pushing him towards his bike. “I’ll prove it. You just got to follow me.”_

_Sammy complained the entire ride to the Weird Fences, now convinced Dean really did just ride his bike instead of going to the library programs, and he was just leading him on a wild goose chase. He almost collided into Dean when he stopped at a random patch of dandelions in front of the gate. “Now what are you doing?”_

_“Now we call for Kala,” Dean explained before cupping his hands around his mouth and bellowing out Kala’s name multiple times._

_“Deaaaaaaan,” Sam whined, trying to pull Dean’s hands away from his mouth. “Stop it! We’re going to get into trouble.”_

_“No, we’re not. Only Kala patrols this area. We just have to keep calling her until she picks up the sound and comes rushing over. Ka—” Dean stopped as he felt the weird shift of wind that always happened when Kala appeared. Looking away from his little brother, he stared ahead and saw his partially robotic friend. “Hey, Kala!”_

_Sam was frozen in shock with Kala’s sudden appearance and her eyes glowing like a weird light show again. Dean had a feeling she did it for appearances. That, or she did it when she was surprised; like maybe Kala was just as startled by Sammy’s presence as he was by hers._

_“Hey, Kala! This here is my baby brother, Sammy. Sammy, this is Kala.”_

_Kala stared blankly at the two of them._

_“Sammy caught me sneaking away so I had to show him that you were real. But Sammy’s the only person in the whole wide world I would trust to tell. I know he could keep you a secret and umm he’s my best friend and you’re my other best friend, so it just made sense you two should be friends too.”_

_Sammy and Kala both eyed each other suspiciously before Sammy decided that if Dean liked Kala then she must be awesome. He gave her a shy smile and slipped his tiny hand through the mesh gate to offer her a handshake. “It’s nice to meet ya.”_

_Kala studied the hand, as if she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with it, before giving it a small poke. Sammy giggled._

_“It’s a handshake. You got to shake my hand now.” Kala gingerly took his wrist and waved his hand back and forth like a flailing fish, making the small boy giggle louder. “No, that’s not how you do it. Come on, Dean, let’s show her.”_

_Dean rolled his eyes before taking Sam’s free hand and giving it a firm but gentle shake. “Just do what I do, Kala.” Her own handshake looked awkward, but it was technically a handshake, so the boys accepted it._

_“Wow, I can’t believe you really are friends with a Cyborg. That’s so cool!” Sammy gawked at Kala and his eyes bugged out when he noticed the writing on her armband. “She’s a 3L? A 3L! Do you know how cool that is?”_

“Is that a 3L?” a female voice asked behind Dean, pulling him out of his memories. 

Dammit, he was supposed to be going over some of his older cases, not get caught up in the past. Especially not with memories of someone—no, something, he’d rather forget. Minimizing his document from the screen, he turned around to face the speaker and was alarmed to see a young, blonde looking back at him. She couldn’t be older than seventeen, and there was something about her vivid blue eyes, and the haunted look reflected in them that gave Dean chills. 

“Is it?” the girl asked again, as Dean realized he didn’t process the question the first time.

“Is what?”

“Is that a 3L model?” she asked once more, this time gesturing her head over towards the stoic woman standing in the back of the room. Although she wore the uniform of the typical cop, she stood too stiff, her face too unresponsive, and her eyes didn’t blink. 

“A lower end model, but yeah. That’s MUR13L. Our city is big enough to get a 3L stationed at our police force, but we are small enough that we only get a Third Tier.” 3Ls could be measured by how many numbers were included in the name, each number stood for special coding the software contained, which allowed the Cyborg to perform more feats. First Tiers, like M16K43L, usually had four numbers, while a Third Tier only had two. 

The blonde nodded, not taking her eyes off the Cyborg. Great another Cyborg fanatic, because the world sure needed more of those. 

“I guess you’re into 3L models?” Dean ventured. 

“Actually, I kinda hate them,” the blonde admitted, finally turning back to face Dean; her eyebrow raised as if she dared him to challenge her opinion. The haunted look seemed darker. It was an uncomfortably familiar look to Dean. 

“Honestly, they give me the creeps. There’s something weird about having software control a human body. Just makes them seem like a horror movie waiting to happen.” Dean acknowledged as well, winning a small smile from the teen. 

“You think more people would be freaked out by them, huh?” she pointed out, still smirking. 

“Yeah, but for some reason only us intelligent minds seem to have figured it out,” Dean said and winked for good measure. “Now how can I be of service to you? I’m sure you came to me for more than just juicy Cyborg gossip.”

The girl’s smile faded. “I need your help finding someone. He’s been missing for seven years, probably dead, but there was never a body.”

Dean gestured for the teen to take the seat across from him before he pulled open his drawer and took out a notepad and a pen. Yeah he had a computer right in front of him but he preferred to do things old school. “I have to ask you some basic questions first. What’s his name?”

“James Novak.” 

“And yours?”

“Claire Novak,” She must have guessed the next question he was going to asked and beat him to it. “I’m his daughter.”

Dean nodded his head, but said nothing. Apologizing for “her loss” was just an easy way to piss her off. Plenty of times he had lost his temper with well-meaning adults when they offered those same dreaded words to him after Dad died.

“What day did he go missing?”

“September 18th.”

“Was this reported before?”

The teen shifted in her chair. “Yes, but no one gave us any information about what happened, or if his body was retrieved.”

Dean put his pen down. 

“Do you have reason to believe his body would be retrieved, but not returned to your family?”

The girl went pale before taking a shaky breath. “He was a Donor. A compatible match for C. 4. 5. T. 1. 3. L.” She said each part slowly and carefully. Dean knew from experience those letters were a curse that echoed through her mind for almost a decade. Instead of a grave marker, they had the serial number of the thing that took over their dads’ bodies.

There was something familiar sounding about that unit identification, but for the life of him, he couldn’t place it. Remembering all that Cyborg bullshit was Sam’s thing, not his. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can help you.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed, and she defiantly pursed her lips. “And why’s that?”

“If he is dead, then his body is now the property of SynTech,” Claire flinched, and although Dean felt bad, he knew she needed to get used to the idea. Dead Donors were property. The sooner she accepted reality, the sooner she could move on with her life. “And since SynTech is a government-affiliated research company, there’s very little I can do. Didn’t your family receive the Packet when they took possession of the body?”

Claire looked at him questioningly, apparently recognizing some of the familiarity Dean had about the subject. 

“My dad and my grandfather were Donors themselves, a bit of a family tradition I have no interest in following. I remember the gold envelope they gave us after Dad’s death. The death certificate, the insurance information, the… benefits package. Didn’t you get that too?”

Claire nodded, some of the fight leaving her disposition. “Mom got it, but none of it felt right.”

“It never does.” Hell, Dean never touched his portion of the payment plan SynTech provided him as a descendent. It wasn’t life insurance, it was blood money. 

“No,” she curled up in her chair, hugging a knee close to her chest and looking so vulnerable that Dean didn’t have the heart to point out that she shouldn’t be putting her nasty shoes on his clean chair like that. “You don’t get it, he was acting so weird right before we lost him. He kept swearing he was being followed around, and that someone was after him!”

Dean rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath. “So, you want me to open up a file on him and look into if he was murdered? Kiddo, you know that even if I do open up a case it isn’t—”

“It isn’t going to bring my dad back?” she growled, “I know that!”

“I was going to say that it isn’t going to be easy proving it was a murder this many years later. Even if we can prove it was, there’s no guarantee we can bring them to justice.”

Claire glared. “Sounds like you don’t know how to do your job here.”

“More like Donor profiles are sealed shut once they become property of SynTech,” Even Dean flinched at his word choice, but there was no better phrase to use. Donor bodies belonged to SynTech the second they were legally declared dead. “Honestly, I’d be surprised if they didn’t do a complete profile purge of him from online documents even on our end of things.”

Dean could never forgive the bioengineering company for its complete erasure policy of the deceased Donors. The excuse was they did not want the general public to be able to recognize and potentially compromise their Cyborgs, but Dean didn’t understand how a kid having one picture of their Dad would be a concern to Federal Security. To him it was just another way SynTech was trying to control them, and to make their Cyborgs less human. 

Not that Cyborgs could actually be anything human-like. They might wear human skin, but they were just unfeeling software. One of these days he wouldn’t forget it.

Refocusing on Claire, he noticed the way she kept fidgeting in her chair, and he felt a pang of pity go through him. Maybe he couldn’t help find her father’s killer, but maybe he could provide her one small service.

“You don’t have any pictures of him, do you?” Just as he thought, she shook her head no.

“All of our pictures of him disappeared the day he died. Heck, they started deleting them before we even received word of his death.” 

Dean recoiled. Another point to SynTech for being the most douchebag company on earth. “Do you still remember what he looks like?” Claire nodded in response and Dean got up from his desk. “Good. Follow me.” 

They passed by his partner’s desk, a big bear-like man with a heart of gold and a Southern twang; he also usually had some sort of snackage on his desk that he didn’t mind Dean pilfering. At least that’s what Dean told himself when he spotted the box of beignets on his desk, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He made sure to grab one for Claire, too. He handed it to her and valiantly dodged the rubber band Benny shot at him. He’d make it up to the man later. 

They kept walking until they reached a cluttered looking desk at the end of the hall; the table overflowing with random plants, empty tea mugs, art supplies, and, interestingly enough, a crystal ball. Dean still had no idea why she had that there. Sitting at the desk was a brunette with smokey eyes and mischievous grin. "Claire, meet Ms. Pamela Barnes. Pam is our forensic artist, she’s one of the best in the field and is guaranteed to make a perfect rendition of whatever it is you see in your head. Claire here is trying to get some closure about what caused her father’s death. I figured having a sketch of the man could help us all out.”

Pam looked at him puzzled, before he mouthed out Donor to her. Pam was the only other person on the force who had any apprehension about Cyborgs and SynTech. Like him, she had been caught in the crossfires of a malfunctioning Cyborg when she was younger. The Cyborg had created what amounted to a giant flash grenade at a group of civilians who were out shopping, and the resulting light was so bright that it did extensive damage to her corneas. Pam spent three years of her life completely blind before SynTech finally settled a medical payoff for her, so she could get a cornea transplant. The only good thing about her experience was that having to live in total darkness for so long made her very observant in other’s details about the world and that transferred over to her art when she regained her vision. That, and it gave her sonar detection of finding his ass, which she never could resist pinching. Dean stifled a totally manly yelp at her most recent conquest.

Pam ignored Dean in favor of smiling sweetly at Claire. “Don’t worry, Dollface, I’ll be sure to whip you up something good. You can even have a copy when I’m done.” They all knew this could be the only opportunity Claire could get to have a portrait of her father again.

“Really? Thank you, Ms. Barnes!” Claire practically squealed with enthusiasm. Her excited voice was loud enough to carry across the room though, and soon they had Detective Mills coming over their way. Claire immediately froze at the sight of her, eyes widening comically at her approach.

“Claire what are you doing here?” Jody asked in her best mom voice, crossing her arms for extra measure. 

“You know her, Jody?” Dean asked—not because he was trying to avoid facing down an angry Jody bear and hoping if he showed his cluelessness it would lessen his own punishment. He was just clarifying. Totally. 

“Yeah, she’s my newest charge.”

Jody Mills, besides being one of the most badass officers on the force, was also known for her loving heart. She was known to take in strays, some of them just passing through the system until they could be returned to their loved ones, and others—like her adopted daughter, Alex—because they had nowhere else to go and deserved a loving home. Part of Dean was relieved to know Claire was in the care of such a wonderful woman, but the other part of him was upset to realize Claire was potentially an orphan. No wonder the girl was so determined to reopen the case on her father.

“Now would someone mind telling me what’s going on?” Jody demanded.

“Umm you see… ” Dean grappled for an explanation that was the least likely to result in him getting his ass kicked.

“I want to reopen my Dad’s case.”

Jody sighed. “Claire, we’ve been over this. There is no case. Your father was sick and he—”

“Died under mysterious circumstances and we never got to see a body? I’m sorry but how does that not sound suspicious as fuck to you?”

“Language!” Jody scolded only for Claire to deepen her own scowl.

“You’re not the boss of me and you’re not my mother. So, stop acting like it.” Before Jody could even make a comeback, Claire whirled around and stormed passed them all and rushed out the door.

Jody groaned dramatically and massaged her temples, the familiar sign of a parent of a teenage girl. “I have no idea what I’m doing wrong with her. She has no respect for me, and I can barely get a word in edgewise before she either starts a fight or runs away.” 

Yep, another familiar trademark from raising a teenage girl. Man, Dean really did not miss Jo’s teenage years. Or more accurately, Sam’s.

“It’s just going to take some time,” Pam promised, offering Jody a comforting pat on the back. “She just needs to get used to the change of scenery and realize that your house is a place she can call home.”

“I guess,” Jody sighed once more before removing her hands from her head. “Sorry about all of that. Didn’t mean to bring my family life to work today.”

“It’s fine, it’s not like we haven’t dealt with teenage girls before.” Pam smirked and elbowed Dean playfully.

“Right, and I had to face puberty with Barbie the hippie. Oh, and Jo.”

“Still, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Right now, she’s convinced if she leads this manhunt for her dad’s supposed killer, she can finally get closure for her family. She doesn’t understand just how sensitive Donor cases are.”

“What model is he anyway?” Pam asked, curiously. “If he’s a more public model, maybe we can at least scope out how Mr. Circuits is running.” 

“That’s part of the problem. He was a C45T13L.” 

Okay why did that name sound so familiar to him? It seemed like Pam recognized it though because she gasped in surprise and it took a lot to catch that woman off-guard—Dean theorized it was because she was actually psychic. There is no way one woman should know so much random information. That, and she had a crystal ball, which he really needed to ask her what the deal was with that thing. 

“But those are the units that got recalled and discontinued!”

See, freaking woman knew everything. Wait. What?

“Wait, so if his software model got the boot then what the hell happened to him? Or what was left of him.”

Both Jody and Pam looked at him uneasily, before Jody spoke up. “The Vessels were gathered up and destroyed, They’re ashes now.”

“Shit. Do the families at least—” Jody was already shaking her head at Dean. “Fuck. Excuse my language, Jody, but that is fucked up. No wonder the kid is going berserk to find a potential killer. She needs some kind of distraction.”

“So, you think I should just let her go on a wild goose chase?” Jody demanded, her eyes started to gleam with unholy mama bear wrath.

“I think you need to let her do some digging in a place where she is safe. Let her use your connections, let her chase her dead ends. If you try to stop her outright, she’s just going to run away from you and who knows what kind of trouble she’d get into.” Pam gave a sad smile. “Trust me, I did a lot of stupid shit just to make my Mom mad. Hell, I got a tattoo once just because she wouldn’t let me dye my hair blonde. Even though looking back, I probably wouldn’t have pulled off that look.”

Jody shuddered and held her hands up in surrender. “Okay, I get it. Give her some leash. I just hope she doesn’t get herself into trouble.”

“Speaking of trouble,” A Cajun voice broke in. “We got a situation over Big Sioux River. I need to borrow your boy here so we can determine if it is an accidental drowning, suicide, or homicide.”

Dean groaned once he spotted the time and realized it was almost five. “Really? And here I thought I was going to actually get dinner at a decent hour for once.”

“I’ll make sure to tell people that they have to turn up dead only during business hours,” Benny deadpanned. “And you got enough calories from my beignets, ya thief. You can hold off a little while longer.”

“Fine, but I’m stealing another beignet for the road!”

The drive wasn’t too bad despite the distance, but that was because Benny knew to shut up and let Dean both drive and pick out the tunes. The only way the drive would be better was if he could drive his Baby instead of this high end, energy efficient model that refused to go past the speed limit unless it was an emergency, and sadly no amount of speed was going to make the dead any less dead. Plus, if he got there too soon, he might have to talk to the nerds from crime scene investigation, and as much as he loved Garth he didn’t have the energy to deal with his… Garth-ness on an empty stomach. Which was why it had to be Garth that they ran into first.

“Hey, fellows,” he greeted eagerly, bounding over to them like the long limbed, overexcited puppy that Dean was convinced Garth really was. Any day now the dude was going to grow a tail just so he could wag it excitedly. “This one looks pretty cut and dry at first glance. Vic is Caucasian, over 6 foot, and in his 30s. He was found on the river bank with his face submerged underwater. Cuts and scrapes suggest he tripped, hit himself pretty hard on the head, and fell unconscious near the water.”

Dean was relieved he found some snacks in the car because this called for a Snickers break. Taking a bite, he turned to Garth and responded with a full mouth. “If it’s so cut and dry then why are we here?”

“Because of this,” Garth explained, proudly showing off the victim’s neck where eight circular bruises were turning black. He then carefully rotated the head to reveal the face and the multiple indents on the forehead. Dean cursed as he took in the features of the Vic, recognizing who they were. Suddenly he wasn’t hungry anymore. 

“Yeah, looks like somebody forcefully grabbed him and banged his head to the ground multiple times to knock him unconscious. Though I can’t tell if this was a mugging that went too far, since there are no personal items on him, or if this was a crime of passion and the killer wasn’t strong enough to drag his body further into the river for disposal.”

“That or he ran out of time.” Benny pointed out, looking around for any dried footprints and before crouching down and focusing on the body’s own feet.

“Luckily we’re almost done here. All we got to do now is get prints off the Vic to identify him.”

“No need for that,” Dean said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I already know him. His name’s Zeke, he’s one of the bartenders for the Roadhouse.”

“Hey, brotha? I think we have problem here.” Benny called out, the man’s sock and shoe in his hand, eyes focused on something on the man’s left heel. Stomach clenching, Dean looked over and let out a curse. 

“Son of a bitch,” he whined, seeing the black letters G4DR33L tattooed on the bottom of the foot. “He’s a friggin’ Donor.”


	3. You Better Leave

**You Better Leave**

The next hours sucked as much as Dean feared they would because dealing with Donor bodies was always a nightmare. From the moment of discovery of what the body was, you were no longer allowed to touch it or really look at it. Hell, Dean was sure it was even a legal offence to just breathe near the damn thing. It didn’t matter that Dean was friends with Zeke—even though he tried his best to distance himself and pretend that this was just another case and that he knew nothing about what the person was like before they became a shell—he had to follow protocol. It didn’t help that the person that collected the body was friggin’ Hester, the SynTech representative that decided she hated Dean’s guts the moment she saw him, and of course she just had to add in some snide comments about his character just to piss him off more. Honestly, she acted like he ran over her dog, or personally spat in her coffee every morning… which admittedly would be a temptation but thankfully he only saw her maybe once or twice a year. 

Still, as unpleasant as this experience was, the next part was going to be much worse. Breaking the news to Ellen and the gang. 

Fortunately—or unfortunately, he was still debating on which—he was scheduled to have dinner with the family at the Roadhouse anyway, as they usually did on Fridays. What a way to start the meal, letting the family know that a beloved staff member and a family friend was found dead today.

It was no surprise that the Roadhouse was roaring with life and high energy when he walked in; many people in the area celebrated the end of the workweek at the Roadhouse, where the atmosphere was welcoming, the food was delicious and comforting, and the drinks kept on flowing. Tonight, though, there was an extra tension in the air, as the bar staff struggled to keep up with the influx of customers. Shit, it looked like they actually had Ash back there and he was an awful bartender, so they must really be desperate. Dean caught sight of Ellen, frantically darting between tables to bring over pitchers of beer and apologize for the slow service. When she noticed Dean, she quickly gestured over towards a table in the back where the rest of the family was already be seated.

“Crazy day, huh?” He commented, squeezing into a seat on Bobby’s right and across from the Sasquatch. 

“I’ll say,” Bobby grumbled. “Zeke never showed up for his shift and since it’s the weekend no one else could or was willing to cover.”

“Did you guys get ahold of him yet?” Sam asked curiously, looking at the half empty bread basket in front of him with longing. The moose was probably starving by now since dinner got delayed by almost an hour, but carbs were the enemy and he couldn’t risk his perfect figure for that. “It really isn’t like him to just disappear like that.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I actually know what happened to him, but I'd rather wait until Ellen can take a break.”

The tension in the air grew heavier as Bobby and Sam traded concerned looks.

“Did he, umm, get into some sort of trouble with the law? Does he need a lawyer?” Sam broached cautiously. Dean shook his head.

“I really rather not tell this story twice. Can we please just wait until Ellen is here too?”

By the heavy set of Bobby’s shoulders and the way that Sam’s eyes got suspiciously glossy, he knew that they had figured out what happened. “So, anyone hear from Jo lately? What has she been up to since the last meetup?” 

Jo, like Sam, wasn’t content with staying in Sioux Falls her whole life and had left to travel the country when she was 21 to figure out what she wanted to do with her own life. She eventually settled down in Philadelphia and was currently a member in their police force, enjoying the fast pace and excitement of the big city life. 

“She’s good. She’s starting to get more responsibility over at the station; they even have her watching over their newest recruit, though they’ve mostly been stuck overseeing protest rallies.”

“At least it’s better than when she had to grease all of the poles in the city.” Dean pointed out. He teased Jo for months when he found out that the big, bad city cop had to grease hundreds of street poles just because their weirdo citizens had a habit of scaling them. He teased her even more when it turned out that all her hard work was for nothing and that people still found a way to climb up it. Sometimes it was just better not to give idiots a blatant challenge.

“What’s the latest protest for?” Sam asked, slowly inching his way over towards the bread basket, as if any sudden movement might startle them into doubling their carbs.

“A lot of people want answers from SynTech about that discontinued line of Cyborgs and if they can really trust them.” Bobby clarified. 

“Well that’s an easy answer. You shouldn’t.” Dean said, grabbing the roll Sam was looking the most lovingly at and slathering it with a generous amount of butter. Sam looked horrified, though Dean wasn’t sure if it was because of what he said or because of what he was doing to his precious roll. Bread was meant to be buttered and eaten, not put on display.

“You really think that way? What about Ka—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Dean growled before taking a huge bite of his roll. “How about we don’t talk about Cyborgs or SynTech tonight?”

“Gross. How about you talk when you don’t have food in your mouth?” Sam complained, and since Dean was his mature, older brother, he opened his mouth to show off his half-eaten food. “You are disgusting.”

“So, when is Jo planning on coming up here to chill with us lowly town folk again?” Dean said, redirecting the conversation back to the youngest family member.

“She just got the go ahead to take off right around the 4th of July. She’s even spending two weeks up here. Might even bring that red headed roommate of hers.” 

“A whole two weeks? And Sam’s here too? What madness is this?” Dean teased, and Sam threw a breadstick at him for good measure.

“Hey, I came down to visit.”

“Yeah, once every two years for like a weekend.”

“Well I was all the way across the country for four of those years and then… you know shit happened.” Sam faltered, reminded of what exactly happened in his last year of Stanford and the clusterfuck that resulted from it. Now Dean felt like a dick.

“Speaking of your studies, how’s the bar practice test going?” Bobby broke in. Thank god for that old, grumpy bastard and his tact.

“It’s actually been going a lot smoother than I thought. I’m actually weeks ahead of what I thought I would be at by now and I think I can actually start relaxing.”

“You? Relax? Okay, who the hell are you and what have you done with my brother?” Dean pointed his breadstick accusingly in Sam’s direction.

“I’m serious. I’m finally at a good place in life again and I think…” Sam trailed off and shrugged, before finally reaching into the basket to grab a roll. “I should start enjoying life again.”

“What he means is that he’s going to ask out Mildred’s niece.” Bobby translated. 

Since Sam was jobless right now, he’d been using his free time to take Bobby back and forth to the rec center for his physical therapy. One of the other regulars there was Mildred, a feisty southern belle with a bad hip and was a bigger flirt than Dean. Dean heard tales of Mildred’s brilliant niece, who was off getting her Masters or something in Ireland. He didn’t realize she was back stateside. 

“Wait, Sammy has a crush!” Dean crowed, making Sam blush red.

“Shut up, Jerk!”

“Bitch. Ow!” He felt a slap at the back of his head and knew that his surrogate mother returned. “How the hell do you always sneak up behind me?”

“Mother’s intuition. We can sense when our cubs are doing something we don’t approve of.” Ellen replied coolly, moving around the round table so that she could sit between Bobby and Sam, but also keep a close eye on Ash at the bar. Everyone knew she loved Ash as one of her own, but she didn’t trust him behind the bar. He was a little too generous with his servings. “Sorry about the hold up, I tried to get ahold of Zeke one more time but still no dice.”

Dean felt his heart clench, and Ellen most have picked up the ominous attitude hanging around the table. “What’s going on? Did I miss something?”

Dean took a deep breath, entering Detective Winchester mode. “Ellen, I’m sorry to say this but you will not be able to reach Zeke. Today at 4:37 pm, Zeke’s body was discovered at the edge of Big Sioux River. His estimated time of death is between 1-4 AM this morning.”

Dean finally dared to look over at Ellen, and saw that she was stark white, and gripping the edge of the table so hard he was afraid she was going to snap a piece of it off. “After he left here.”

“What have you guys discovered so far?” Bobby asked. “Was it murder or an accident?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. Zeke was a Donor so the investigation has officially been passed over to the feds while the body is in the possession of SynTech.”

“I didn’t know that.” Ellen admitted. “He never mentioned that he was a Donor.”

“Not many people do.” Sam pointed out quietly.

“I think there’s really only one thing we can do at this point.” Ellen said calmly, getting out of her chair once more and moving over towards the bar. She let out an ear splitting whistle, instantly shushing everyone in the room. “I apologize for the service delays tonight. As you all must have noticed we are a little understaffed at this moment. What we didn’t know, is that one of our staff members died earlier this morning.

Many of you know Zeke; he has been an asset to this place for the past five years and a friend to us all. So in his honor, I’m shutting this place down early tonight and we will open back up on Sunday. Take your time enjoying your meals and having a cold one, but we will not be accepting any new customers tonight.” With that she moved over towards the door and flipped over the sign to say close.

Everyone began to whisper amongst themselves and poor Ash looked devastated. After quickly making sure that he got everyone at the bar settled, he made his way over to the table and sat at the empty seat next to Dean. “Please tell me this is all an elaborate prank.”

“Sorry, buddy.” Dean said, gently patting him on the back.

“Just… shit, man. I just saw him last night!” Ash shook his head, incredulously. “I finally convinced him to teach me some bartending tricks. He was supposed to show me how to make a Purple Nurple tonight!”

“He did make some pretty awesome nurples.” Dean admitted.

“Right? He had his own secret ingredient he added to it. And now… now.” Ash couldn’t finish his sentence, as he desperately tried to swallow down the cry that wanted to come out.

It really was the stupid shit that made death the worst. Losing the person was bad enough but realizing the empty hole they left behind was even more devastating. It was all the secrets that would never get shared, or the routine things they did that you took for granted. The way their eyes would gleam, the shape of their smile, the way they talked. Everything that made them… well, them was now gone. Even though Zeke was a Donor and one day his body would be walking around again, it wouldn’t be Zeke. It would be G-3L whatever, controlling his flesh like a puppet. Dean for one hoped he never had to see that Cyborg, taking solace in the fact that Cyborgs were repositioned thousands of miles from their Donor’s homeplace so that they didn’t run into their loved ones. Accidentally stumbling upon John’s body taught him it was better off not knowing where the corpse disappeared to and to just pretend that they were buried in the ground somewhere.

“Come on, no chick flick moments. I’m sure if Zeke was here he would tell us not to cry but to celebrate his life,” Dean said. “Let’s all get a couple of rounds of beers going, and anytime someone mentions Zeke, we take a shot in his honor.”

It was by the third shot that Sam had realized that someone needed to be sober enough to drive, and after debating they decided that both Winchesters would be it. Sam because he wasn’t a fan of drinking anyway, and because—according to Bobby—he didn’t want to wake up hungover when he had to take Bobby to the Rec and put the moves on Mildred’s mysterious niece. Dean decided to be DD because he didn’t want to leave his precious Impala behind, especially if it was going to be a thunderstorm that night like Ash kept mumbling on about. For some reason the man kept looking and fiddling with his high-tech watch, complaining about how he needed to get something done before the storm took effect. By the fourth time Ash stole a glance at his watch, Dean had enough.

“What the fuck has your panties in a twist? Alcohol is here to relax you, not make you twitchier than a virgin in a brothel.”

“My bad,” Ash apologized, forcing his arm with the watch underneath the table. “There’s just something I wanted to check out in the Salvage Yard tonight after my shift.” Ash worked at Bobby’s Salvage Yard, taking over many of the duties Bobby could no longer do since becoming wheelchair-bound the previous year. It didn’t help that in recent years people started tossing both unwanted cars and unwanted technology at him.

“But since Zeke didn’t show up,” he took a swig of whiskey as well as the rest of the non-driving members of the table. “I came straight here after my shift was done. I figured I could go grab it in the morning at first, but with the storm coming in, I’m afraid that much water is going to ruin the circuits. That and I don’t want to risk lightning striking it and frying it.”

“What’s down there that’s so important?” Bobby groused. 

“I think I saw a pretty high-end computer system,” Ash explained, twirling his shot glass around. “Probably a couple of years too old for a techno-snob, but with a bit of love it can do wonders for me.”

“You could have just told me about it earlier, boy, and I could have given you the time to check it out.”

Ash waved his hand, which was still holding the shot glass, dismissively. “I knew once I had my hands on it, I wouldn’t want to do anything else. I’m pretty sure once I have it, I’m probably going to spend the weekend tinkering with it, so don’t be surprised if you don’t see or hear from me in a couple of days.”

“Nerd.” Dean coughed.

“Says the man who religiously follows Dr. Sexy.” Sam teased.

“Hey, that’s hitting low. Plus, we both know who’s fault it is that I got sucked into daytime TV.” Dean said, looking angrily at Ellen’s and Bobby’s direction.

Bobby shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. “I told ya not to do it or it will suck you in, idjit.” 

The others laughed at Dean’s expense, but Dean refused to sink into his shame. “Whatever. You guys might think all that medical jargon is fake nonsense, but some of it has actually helped me solve a case.”

“Isn’t that the show that did face transplants?” Sam asked incredulously. 

“How about you shut your face before I transplant it off!” Dean demanded.

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Anyway,” Ash said, getting unsteadily to his feet. “Since I’m not needed to man the bar anymore, I’m going to go and rescue my tech before it can get ruined. Or worse, picked up by some sort of trash picker.”

“One who isn’t you?” Ellen commented drily. 

“Exactamundo, Ellen.” Ash swayed slightly to the left, almost knocking his chair down. 

“Maybe you should take it easy?” Sam suggested, his moose eyes wide with worry. 

“You’re not really in the position to be climbing through sheet metal.” Ellen pointed out.

“Yeah, last thing we need is for you to end up,” Bobby paused as he tried to rephrase himself. “End up getting hurt.” It went unspoken that he really meant that you end up dead too.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve handled worse shots than this and I don’t even need a car to get to the Salvage Yard. I can just walk there.” Ash rented the apartment above the Roadhouse and he was used to walking back and forth between the two locations on nice days.

“Walk there and carry heavy electronics back? In the friggin’ rain? That’s just asking for trouble.” Dean said dismissively before pushing out of his own chair. “In the wise words of Bobby; don’t be an idjit and just let me help you. I’ll drive you there, help you find your hunk of junk, and then we’ll be back here before the worst of the storm.”

Ash’s face, which previously was bright red from all of the alcohol he consumed, was quickly losing color. “That’s alright—” 

“Dean’s right,” Bobby barked. “Don’t be an idjit and just accept the damn help.”

Ash’s shoulders slumped. “Fine, but on one condition. I’m going to need my bro Dean. Detective Winchester is not allowed to show his face tonight.”

“Is there something you’re not telling us?” Ellen demanded. 

“Let’s just say some of my repairs and updates aren’t quite up to federal code. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to cover my tracks.”

For anyone else, this should have set off all of their alarm bells, but for Ash it was just a typical day ending in Y. The guy was a genius who graduated early from MIT with degrees in both computer programming and cybertronic engineering, but he had a penchant for hacking government software just to see if he could. Honestly, no one knew why the guy wanted to remain as just a lowly mechanic at Bobby’s when he could literally get a job with NASA if he wanted to. Hell, even SynTech would be worthier of his skills, as much as Dean hated to admit it. And he really did hate to admit it. Like he felt like he needed to wash his mouth out with soap that’s how dirty it made him feel. 

“Just be careful, boy.” Ellen said resigned. 

“Will do, Mrs. Bossman,” He looked over towards Dean. Or at least in the general direction of Dean, as he was off by a couple of centimeters. Yeah, the man definitely couldn’t be trusted walking through a scrap yard like this. “Come on, Dean-o. Let’s get the show on the road.”

“If you puke in or on Baby, you are walking home. I’ll keep your precious junk safe in the car and I’ll follow alongside you, but you’re friggin’ marching your ass back in the rain.”

One hour later and Dean was ready to strangle Ash. “You still haven’t fucking found it yet? What the hell, I thought you knew where it was?”

“To be fair, I’m highly inebriated right now and I’m having a hard time remembering where exactly it’s supposed to be. But I’m getting close, I can feel it. In my gut.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s all that whiskey floating around in there.” 

Ash’s obnoxious watch started chirping again, giving him some sort of updates that only the nerd could decipher the meaning of. “Just trust me. Just 20 more minutes.”

“Ten. Also, if your watch beeps again, I’m friggin’ throwing it into the compactor.”

“You gotta get it off of me first!” Ash challenged, before taking off around the nearest stack of cars. 

“You better not get yourself killed over there! I can’t afford to be investigated by my own department for your death.” He could hear Ash laughing in the distance and decided that the man must be regaining some of his sobriety by now. 

Dean started to follow him but then noticed a flash of something blue in the distance. At first, he thought it was lightning, but something seemed off about it. Lightning really shouldn’t be such a vivid color. Curious, he headed over towards that direction, which happened to be the exact opposite way Ash went. Oh well, hopefully the mullet headed freak could last five minutes without injuring himself. Dean continued moving forward until he found himself in front of an old—and in his opinion pretty ugly—Lincoln Continental. For once, Dean could understand why someone would want to throw away a classic car like that, but what he couldn’t understand was why he was still being drawn towards it. Then he saw the flash of blue come from the direction of the car’s trunk.

Stalking closer to the car, Dean slowly drew out his taser gun. On one hand he wished that real guns and bullets hadn’t been outlawed twenty years ago, but on the other hand, his police grade taser was built with enough bolts to take on a full rampaging robot whereas a bullet would be useless. That particular shade of blue flash was eerily similar to the flashes that some models of Cyborgs had when they were on high alert mode, and that meant Dean would be safer with a taser than a real gun. He edged around the side of the car and could see that the light was coming through the partially closed trunk. In a split second, Dean threw open the trunk and whirled around to aim his taser at whatever was inside and was momentarily blinded by blue.

When his vision cleared the first thing he noticed were blue, unseeing eyes, tangles of black hair, and the beginnings of a scruffy beard. Even if his blank expression wasn’t enough proof that this man was a Cyborg, then his two metal arms clearly were. Which was unusual, even though the public knew that Cyborgs were half robotic, they couldn’t tell because any metal appendages they had were covered in a realistic, synthetic skin. They also didn’t really have facial hair, Dean had always seen them clean shaven—even his father—and he honestly thought that they were incapable of growing any hair. Apparently, he was wrong. There was something weird about his arms—besides the fact that they were friggin’ steel. There was a bunch of nasty looking raised scars over the steel appendages, keloid scars he thought they’re called, and if he remembered Garth correctly, they usually formed over deep wounds that the body had to quickly heal to avoid bleeding out. Cyborgs also didn’t have scars on them, and any previous scars that their Donors had were erased before they were suited to become Vessels, so whatever caused those injuries had to be recent. Maybe it was from the same thing that ripped off the synthetic skin? They also weren’t symmetrical, as the right arm had metal climbing all the way up to his pecs, while the left arm stopped right at the socket.

“Don’t move,” Dean growled, aiming the gun at the Cyborgs head. 

The Cyborg just stared blankly ahead. From the corner of his eye, he noticed blue light flickering from its chest and was about to shoot it before he noticed that it was just fluorescent lettering flickering over its skin. C45-T-L, the letters read. Interesting, he never ran into a ‘bot that had dashes in between the coding like that. He wondered what it meant. He did know that if the Cyborg’s full unit identification was glowing like that, then it meant that the Cyborg had run out of energy and needed to be recharged. Although Cyborgs could run most of their functions on the natural electrical impulses that the human body provided, they still needed to be recharged every night to make sure they didn’t exceed the amount of energy that the body could output on its own. It was also a way to make sure that Cyborgs couldn’t wander off when left to their own devices, eventually they had to return so they could get charged for the next day.

“What the hell is this thing even doing here?” Dean wondered and then tensed as he heard something like footsteps stumble over him. 

Whirling around, he pointed his gun at an alarmed Ash, before recognizing who it was and promptly training his weapon back on the Cyborg. “Don’t get close. Even a Cyborg with a dying charge can still do some nasty damage.”

Dean expected Ash to say something when he spotted the Cyborg. Either something along the lines of “Holy shit, that thing was in the yard?” to “Who the heck recycles a Cyborg?” What he didn’t expect to hear was a sigh of relief and words of gratitude. “Great, you found him. I was starting to lose hope that he was still in here.”

Whirling around again, Dean stared at Ash suspiciously. “What the fuck are you talking about, Ash?”

“I told you I was looking for something high-tech. Well you’re looking at him.”

“What the fuck, Ash? I mean it, what the fuck is going on?” Dean demanded. He’s pretty sure he had a lapse of sanity there because for some reason, he could swear he transferred an unresponsive Cyborg into the trunk of his Baby and was driving it back to his place.

“Look, I promise I’ll explain everything later, but the important thing is that we beat this rain and get him inside as quickly as possible.”

“That’s another thing, how the hell did you know it was there?”

“Because I told him to come there.” Ash explained coolly. “My systems picked up his distress call and it translated a response back to him.”

“Wait… you can talk to Cyborgs? But they can’t talk.”

“They technically can, you know, as long as SynTech left their vocal cords alone. Cyborgs also have their own language, but it’s ultrasonic and beyond our hearing capabilities. Only animal hearing and sensitive software can pick it up.”

“And you happen to have it.”

“No, I happened to invent it.” 

“Shit, Ash, this is… this is just fucking crazy. You’re telling me that you can talk to Cyborgs and you have me stowing one away. Do you know how many laws we are breaking just by having it in the trunk?”

“Dean, if we didn’t get him out of there, then someone would have found him and SynTech would have torn him apart.”

“Why do you even care so much? It’s just a hunk of software.”

“Because,” Ash snapped but then took a steadying breath,“because I met one of his copies years ago. He opened my eyes to the real world and SynTech destroyed him because of it. I’m not letting them destroy this copy, too.”

“This is illegal in so many ways.”

“Aren’t you the one saying that SynTech is the root of all evil? That they are up to no good, but no one has the guts to even investigate them? Dean, the key to taking them down is currently in your trunk!”

The first drops of rain began to descend upon them and Dean angrily flicked on his wipers.

“Trust me on this. Just let me charge him at your place overnight, and by the time it’s morning we both will be out of your hair. Promise.”

“How can you even charge him?” Dean demanded, only to curse when he saw Ash slowly pull out a long coil of cord from the depths of his pockets. 

“How the hell did you even fit that in there!”

“Hey, I can’t be telling you all of my trade secrets now.”

Dean kept silent for most of the drive, side eyeing Ash every opportunity he got. “You swear that you and Tinman over there will be gone by the morning?”

“I swear on my beautiful golden locks.” Ash said solemnly, making Dean frown.

“I friggin’ must be nuts to be going on with this… but if its not out by the morning then I’m reporting it to SynTech myself.”

“Not cool, dude. Not cool at all.” Ash said, shaking his head in disappointment. 

Easy for Ash to say. It sounded like the Cyborg he was foolish enough to trust was destroyed before it had the opportunity to turn on him. Because that’s what happened if you tried to treat a Cyborg like a human. Something in them just broke and it was only a matter of time before they snapped and tried to kill you. Dean had the scar to prove it.

“Just make sure it stays in sleep mode until it’s off my property.” Dean grumbled. “And you’re just lucky that Sam decided to stay over at Bobby and Ellen’s or else you would be out of luck. Why aren’t you taking it to your place anyway?”

“The Roadhouse won’t be able to hold the voltage the C45 model needs to recharge, versus I helped you rewire your new place and I made sure that your house could handle charging an electric car. You know, for when you decide to stop polluting the world with your gas-guzzler’s smog.”

“Say one more bad thing about Baby and I really will kick you out into the rain. And trust me, that robot of yours would be following close behind.”

“I meant your sex on wheels car.”

“Better.” Dean was silent for a while before he decided to broach the topic again. “What are you planning on doing. Really?”

“Honestly? I don’t really know. I didn’t even get his distress signal until two nights ago and didn’t realize that he followed my instructions until this morning. I don’t know what I’m doing next, but all I know is that he needs help and I’m going to give it to him.”

“Ash,” Dean sighed, “it might have human body parts, but it’s still a computer.”

“I’m telling you, Dean. There’s something different about his type of model. There’s something,” Ash waved his hands around, desperately trying to pull forth a word from the air, “something human about his line. Isn’t that worth trying to protect?”

“No. At the end of the day, that thing is still just a bunch of metal and fancy coding. By tomorrow morning I want that thing out of my house, and I better not catch wind of it around this city, or so help me Ash I will turn it in.”

“Fine.” Ash agreed, and they were silent for the rest of the trip. 

They still didn’t speak a word when they got to the house and Ash dragged the Cyborg into Dean’s garage and plugged him in for the night. Dean didn’t feel like being the bigger person and left Ash extra sheets and a pillow on his couch instead of speaking to him in person. True Dean had a guest room, and the finished basement Sam was staying in, but Dean didn’t bother offering up either empty room to Ash. Idjits who brought in dangerous technology deserved to sleep on the couch.

Dean woke up a couple of hours later to a loud crash downstairs. “What the hell is that drunk ass doing?” He tried to flick on his lamp but was met with pitch darkness until a flash of lightning momentarily broke it apart. Thunder roared loudly outside not too long after, making Dean wonder if the storm had knocked out his electricity.

It was better to think that Mother Nature was the culprit compared to the thing charging in his garage. Man, he really needed to remember to kick Ash’s ass when all of this was over. He heard another crash followed by three loud bangs and decided that he needed to go down there to investigate. Either Ash was causing a ruckus, or Sam had unexpectedly decided to return to their place, or the Cyborg had—nope he was not letting his mind wander down that dark alley. 

Dean reached for his phone to use as a flashlight but then cursed when he saw that the thing was powered off. Apparently, the electricity went out before it had the chance to charge itself. Looks like he would have to go downstairs blind. Luckily it wasn’t as bad as he thought it was, as his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, and every now and then he would get bright flashes of lightning to show off his layout. When he entered the living room, he wasn’t that surprised to see that the couch Ash was sleeping on was empty. 

He heard another crash coming from his kitchen and he smirked as he began to meander his way over there. “Ash, I know you have the late-night munchies, but can you keep the noise down? If you keep making that racket you're going to wake the dead.” 

Dean stopped at the kitchen entryway and leaned against the wall, easily making out the outline of the man. “Just be sure to save me some food too, you pig.”

Lightning struck again, and Dean realized in horror that the hair in front of him was black, not dirty blonde or even brown. Raven black. The head slowly swiveled around towards Dean and he was met with fluorescent and achingly familiar blue eyes. 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean cursed. Where the fuck was his taser when he needed it?


	4. It's Not Safe in Here

**It’s Not Safe In Here**

Dean, with all his training and awesome prowess, did the first thing he could think of and grabbed the nearby barstool and brandished it in front of himself like a weapon. 

“Back ya, beast! I said stay back!” Okay now he just felt like some sort of old school lion tamer. The Cyborg just looked over at Dean with its glowing eyes. Abruptly, it turned and marched towards him. 

“Take one step closer and you’ll regret it. I mean it.” Dean weakly threatened, even though he knew his chances of survival were slim. With heightened human senses, superior dexterity, reinforced steel boning, and the strength to crumble concrete like a cookie; Dean would have better luck trying to take down an elephant. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t go down swinging though. 

As soon as the Cyborg got into Dean’s personal space, he swung the bar-stool with all his strength and struck the creature across the face. The bar-stool shattered into pieces, and Dean tightly gripped the two remaining splintered legs.

The Cyborg blinked down at the debris, as if questioning how pieces of furniture had spontaneously exploded everywhere. While it was distracted, Dean slid behind it and stabbed it in the back with one of the broken and more pointy legs. He wasn’t expecting his makeshift shank to penetrate through the skin and the Cyborg wailed.

Ash had said that these things had a language of their own, and that they could speak if they still had human vocal cords but being told they could talk it was completely different than witnessing it scream. What shocked Dean the most was the inflection and the amount of anguish that was in the shriek; it was clearly a cry of pain instead of just an imitation. At first Dean pondered if he somehow gained super strength and was able to impale the wooden weapon right through the Cyborg’s muscle layer, but a flash of lightning revealed that the point of the stool didn’t break through more than the first layer of skin. A second flash of lightning revealed that the Cyborg’s whole back was crisscrossed with more keloid scars and even some burns. Startled by the amount of damage on the Cyborg, Dean loosened his grip on the pole. 

That’s all the Cyborg needed to whip around and dislodge it from Dean’s hands, however it moved too fast and snapped the pole in half, burying the weapon deeper into its back. The creature screamed again, flailing its arms awkwardly as it tried and failed to reach the oversize splinter. Its arm movements were rigid and clunky, more so than the typical Cyborg; it looked like it couldn’t move its arms passed shoulder level and could not reach behind itself at all. The more the creature flailed, the more it began to sway on its legs, as if the floor beneath it was moving, until finally it fell with a loud bang.

“Please,” a deep, gravely voice came out from the Cyborg. “Please, it hurts.”

Dean stood motionless as he tried to process what was going on. This Cyborg was friggin’ busted and needed to be scrapped. Though why would that scare a Cyborg? The body was just an empty shell to house their circuits. Switching between Vessels did nothing to alter the software inside, so what was this Cyborg running from? Unless… it was the software itself that was corrupted? Then the only way to fix it, would be to erase everything and rework the program from a clean slate.

“Great, you’re a glitch.” Dean murmured, and the Cyborg recoiled at his words.

“Please,” It begged again. “I’m just trying to find my way home. Back to my family.”

That got to Dean. What would software know about home when they had none? They couldn’t even call their job designations a home since they were rotated every six months so that they couldn’t form any sort of fixations to any sort of place or person. Cyborgs didn’t have the emotional capacity for true affection, but instead became obsessed with familiar things and became violent if the object of their obsession was taken away from them. They also didn’t have a family; even Cyborgs of the same software didn’t treat each other like brethren but rather as an extension of self. 

“Family?”

“Yes, there’s… there’s two people who are very important to me. I can’t remember them clearly, but I know I love them and that they love me,” The Cyborg said, struggling to still reach the chunk of wood embedded in its back. “I’ve been gone too long. They must be worried.”

“Gone too long?” Dean mulled its words over in his head. “Shit, do you actually have memories?”

The Cyborg nodded, collapsing back onto its stomach. “Yes. They are fuzzy, and I can’t remember their faces, but I can remember… green. Reading fairy tales, flying kites, playing hide and seek. The sound of a child laughing. Wiping away tears. And I can feel this… this ache inside of me. Like something is missing. Like they have those pieces of me.”

“Holy. Shit.” Dean backed away and began to pace.

Cyborgs could not feel. That was something everybody knew, and it was one of the reasons why Cyborgs couldn’t be trusted without handlers because they lacked empathy and would rather kill a fleeing criminal instead of arresting them. Also, they could not differentiate between severity of crimes; someone killing in self-defense was as nonredeemable as a serial killer to them. Even accidentally trespassing was a great felony to them. Yeah, some optimists would dream that some of the traits and feelings that the Vessel had prior to death could still live on through the software, but emotions and technology are incompatible, and no Cyborg had been able to retain anything from their “past life”. Even memories were something they had no access to. What this Cyborg was saying was impossible. 

Dean finally turned around to face the Cyborg, just as another flash of lightning went by. Its blue eyes were wide and begging, its face contorted into pain. “Please.” It begged once more.

“Fuck.” Dean cursed, knowing that he couldn’t refuse its plea another time. “Okay, I’ll deal with your back, but I’m getting my friggin’ taser first. And if you put a single toe out of line, I swear I’ll shoot you with a million volts as just a warning. You understand?”

“No,” The Cyborg said, moving its head slowly. Dean tensed, expecting that this was all a trap and now that Dean felt pity for it, it was going to attack him. But, it didn’t get up, instead it just tilted its head to one side, like a confused pet. “What is this line that I’m not allowed to cross? Do you need to draw it? And is it only my toes that need to stay within the line, or do all parts of my body need to stay inside?”

“What?” Dean couldn’t wrap his head around what the Cyborg was getting at.

“I was just getting some clarification so that I would not accidentally get my toe, or potentially an elbow, out of line.”

“It’s,” Dean shook his head. “There’s no physical line. It just means to be on your best behavior!”

“Oh, colloquialism. I am afraid I have poor training in that art form. Apparently, the phrases ‘go over my head’ too frequently.” And the freak opened its mouth and gave a creepy imitation of a smile, its white teeth practically glowing in the dark. It was like it was proud that it remembered one saying from its past.

“Just… stay right there.” Shaking his head, Dean first went to the living room to fetch an emergency flashlight, because fuck anymore of this navigating in the dark, then he went back upstairs to retrieve his gun, and then made one final stop at the bathroom for the first aid kit even if he wasn’t sure if it would even work on a metal human. He was still spooked that he still hadn’t found a trace of Ash, but then again there was no signs of a struggle. Wherever Ash was now, he did leave willingly. 

“Okay,” Dean set up the flashlight so that he could clearly see the Cyborg’s back and tried to force down the bile he felt rise. It looked like someone took a meat cleaver and a blowtorch to its back. Even he felt pity for the thing; it looked nasty. “Whatever you do, don’t move. First I’m going to get out that hunk of wood you got in there.” 

Carefully grabbing a pair of gloves from the first aid kit, because like hell was he risking getting some sort of Cyborg STD because he touched its blood with his bare hands. That and it could be corrosive or carcinogenic. Believe it or not, he did pay attention to Garth during their safety training. Once gloves were applied, he reached down and carefully gripped the piece of wood, and quickly ripped it out like it was a band-aid. Luckily, it was only caught in the first layer of skin, so there was no fear of him accidentally releasing necessary pressure to a vein or an artery. It looked like it might have left behind some wood pieces, though.

“Hey, does saline hurt you guys? I know you guys are waterproof, but I don’t know what the salt in this could do to you.” Last thing Dean wanted was to accidentally barbecue himself while playing Good Samaritan to the talking toaster. 

“Saline is safe.” The Cyborg responded through clenched teeth. Either this thing was an amazing actor, or it could feel pain.

“Okay, then I’m going to use some saline to flush out your wound to try to get any leftover crap out. At the very least, this injury will heal a lot nicer than the rest of your back.” Dean opened the saline bottle and poured it into the wound, and then carefully patted it dry with a gauze pad. It was quiet for a while before the Cyborg picked up its head again.

“How bad is it?” It croaked. “My back?”

“I won’t lie, it’s pretty nasty. It looks like you got into a fight with a shredder and lost.”

“That’s not what happened.” 

“Okay?” Dean admittedly was surprised that it responded to that. “What did happen then?”

“They took my wings.” The Cyborg said.

Dean paused at that. He didn’t know that Cyborgs could have wings. He knew they had augmentations, like how Kala had blaster guns hidden in her arms, so it wouldn’t be that far of a stretch that Cyborgs could also have wings that could be hidden away. Despite growing up with a Cyborg, he was realizing that there was a lot about them that he still didn’t know. He hadn’t known that Cyborgs could have wings, nor that they could talk or even had their own language. Maybe more of them also retained memories of their past. He wondered if that M16K43L had remembered him. He wondered if Kala had—

He viciously shook his head, trying to forget that stupid traitor and her stupid blue eyes, only to be met with the current Cyborg’s own cerulean gaze. How many other Cyborg’s had those damn blue eyes?

“Do all Cyborgs have wings?” Dean asked instead.

“No, only certain ranks known as the Seraphs.”

“Why did they take your wings?”

The Cyborg was silent, and Dean wondered if it had grown bored with talking to him, or if pretending to be human was too much for it. 

“Because I’m broken.” It admitted, and its voice cracked with emotion.

“Broken?”

“I can’t follow orders well, I’m easily distracted, and I want. I want things so bad even though it goes against my programming.”

“And what is it that you want?” Dean asked, inching his hand towards the taser. If that thing said world domination, or some other power trip, then Dean was shooting him.

“My family back,” It whispered with so much longing that Dean began to wonder again if it was an Oscar deserving actor or if it could really feel. “I just want them back.”

It then laughed, a horrible broken sound. “I want them back, but I have no idea who they are or what they look like. All I know is that one of them is in this area.”

Dean stiffened. “How do you know that?”

“From the voice that told me to come over here. It told me it could help me. That it could reunite me.”

“Ash!” Dean said his name like a curse. What else was that mullet freak hiding from him? Tinkering with a broken Cyborg was one thing, but promising it a big, ol’ family reunion was batshit crazy even for him. “When he gets back here, he has a whole lot of explaining to do.”

It was already the afternoon and there was still no sign of Ash. Luckily the electricity returned hours ago, and once his phone had enough charge Dean started to call him. He called countless times, left plenty of voicemails, sent at least 50 texts, and was even desperate enough to email him. Once it hit two, he called Ellen in hopes that she might have heard from him, but she reminded him that the Salvage Yard was closed on Saturdays and she had shut the Roadhouse down for the day and wouldn’t have seen him there either. She then reminded him that Ash was planning on hiding from the world this weekend, and Dean didn’t have the heart to point out that the thing he was planning on working on was currently sitting across from him making a penguin out of origami. Yeah, while Dean was stressing this whole day, the Cyborg decided to make his own zoo out of paper figures, using the old newspapers that Dean was planning to recycle but never actually got down to doing it. 

The Cyborg caught him staring and offered him the completed penguin, trying to smile but it was still too homicidal killer for Dean’s taste. And considering his career choice, he would know.

“If you want a smile that doesn’t look like your mouth is seizing, you should try practicing it in the mirror. Once it no longer cracks when you do it, then you know you got a real boy smile going on.”

The Cyborg tilted its head and narrowed its eyes in thought. Dean was beginning to wonder if this was the universal Cyborg sign of confusion. “A facial feature shouldn’t make a mirror crack. Only force could accomplish tha—Oh! You are making another colloquial, right?”

The thing looked so excited that Dean just had to nod his head. “Yep, you got it, Buddy.” He didn’t mean to call it that, but its eyes glowed happily at the accidental nickname.

Okay, Dean had to admit that for a renegade Cyborg, Ash sure chose a cute one to illegally harbor. At first, Dean wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the strange fellow until Ash got back, but he quickly learned that the creature was easy to entertain, and it wasn’t as creepy to be around as he thought it would be. Unless it was staring at him without blinking and trying to smile. Again.

“Cut. That. Out,” Dean complained. “I told you that it’s creepy when you stare like that. And no more smiling until you can learn to pull it off!” 

The Cyborg frowned, which was the only expression it could pull off nicely, and its penguin offering began to droop as he lowered his hand. Sighing, Dean reached over to carefully grab the origami figure and carefully placed it into the pocket of his jeans. The Cyborg started to smile again, before remembering Dean’s ban on the thing and quickly put a hand over his mouth so that Dean didn’t have to see the hideous expression. Well played.

“So, did Ash tell you anything about what he planned to do when you got here?”

“No. Our conversation had to be very brief so that others of my kind couldn’t pick up the message as well. The only thing he could tell me was the coordinates to that car graveyard place.”

“Of course, he did.” Dean reached for his phone one more time and was once again sent straight into Ash’s voicemail.

Yeesh, you think Ash would at least leave instructions before leaving Dean alone with his pet Cyborg. Dean had no idea what to do, especially when part of his instincts were screaming to call freaking Hester herself to get the ‘bot out of his hair. The other part of him felt sick for even thinking it, especially when he saw the delicate care it was taking to make each one of its origami animals. And remembering the way its eyes looked when it talked about the family it could no longer remember. He could almost believe it was human if it wasn’t for those metal arms. 

“Perhaps I should cover up?”

“What?” Dean looked at the Cyborg curiously.

“Perhaps I should wear something to cover up my appendages? They seem to make you uncomfortable, and it seems that you have apparel that could cover the majority of that.”

“Umm, yeah. Hold on, let me go get you a shirt.” He went upstairs and sifted through his closet until he found a thin, but long sleeve shirt that wouldn’t be too warm or out of place in a South Dakota May. He tossed the shirt at the ‘bot as he came downstairs. “Just don’t rip it or stain it with any sort of weird Cyborg juice.”

“I… will do my best not to.” It replied, as it carefully unbuttoned the shirt to put it on. Dean was surprised by how human it looked once it was finished buttoning up, but Dean had one complaint.

“Only losers button all their buttons, especially when it’s this warm. Unbutton the first three and then you’ll really fit in.”

“Like this?” It asked, carefully unbuttoning them like it was trying to give Dean a show. 

Dean had to gulp and look away. “Yeah, like that.” Wow, whoever the Cyborg’s Vessel was had been blessed in the looks department. Not that Dean was checking out the very male Vessel. And he definitely wasn’t checking out the Cyborg. Though calling it Cyborg was started to get obnoxious, even in his own mind.

“Hey, do you have a name?”

If they could have their own secret language, then it wasn’t far fetched that they would have their own secret names.

“I did. I think I had multiple. Now all I have is my new designation. C45-T-L.”

“C45-T-L. C45-T-L,” Dean repeated his name over and over, before finding a pen and grabbing a newspaper to write out its designation. He wrote it out multiple times, playing with a way to turn it into a name. After a couple of minutes, he came up with something. “How about Cas. Tee. El. Castiel. I can even call you Cas for short.”

“You… want to name me?” The Cyborg looked at him startled. 

“Is that a problem?” Dean challenged.

“No! It’s just… it’s a great honor to be named. It will be nice to be more than just coding again.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean felt his cheeks warm and he awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “It makes it easier for me too.”

“I like it. It feels…right.” The Cyb—Cas said before getting a determined look on its face. “My name is Castiel, but you can call me Cas.” 

“You know, as long as you don’t show off your hands and you don’t try to smile, you could actually pass for human.” 

Dean could tell that Cas was trying hard not to smile again at that. Who knew that a Cyborg could be so smiley? Maybe the Vessel had been the type of person who smiled and laughed at everything, so the Cyborg had his residual reflexes. Dean might have gotten lost in thought trying to picture what this—admittedly handsome—man would have been like when he was alive, but luckily his stomach interrupted him before he got into any sort of dangerous territory. 

“I don’t know about you, but I am starving.” He proclaimed, quickly getting up from the table and heading over towards the fridge and debated on what to make, before realizing that he still had hamburger meat. Score! True he didn’t have time to start up the grill, but he could still make a mean burger on the stove.

“I am unsure of whether or not I require nutrients,” A voice said in his ear, and Dean swears he didn’t scream when it happened. He also didn’t throw the package of meat in the air from fright. He was clearly just tossing them over towards Cas, so he could free up his hands, and he knew the techno-freak would be able to catch it with no problem. 

“Don’t sneak up on me like that! Do you want something else impaled in your back?”

“That was unpleasant, and I would prefer that my back, and the rest of my body, remained unscathed.”

“Good, then don’t be a creeper, and definitely don’t whisper in my ear again. That’s wrong on so many levels.”

“How so?” Cas asked, looking like it wanted to lean in again.

“It’s just that… you see there’s a certain,” Dean threw his hands up. “You know what, come over back over to the table and I’ll give you a quick lesson on personal space.” And with the help of Cas’ origami army, he was able to do just that. He was just hoping he didn’t have to give the Cyborg any other life lessons. In exchange, he put Cas to work at shredding the cheese and slicing the lettuce, tomatoes and onions. It still made him a little twitchy to have a Cyborg holding a knife while he was busy doing other things, but Cas made no move to harm him, and even kept a respectable distance from him.

He just put two burgers onto the cast iron when he heard the doorbell ring. “That better be Ash with a big ass apology to me,” He looked over at Cas. “Do me a favor and keep an eye on them for me?”

“Yes?”

Dean opened the door wide, expecting to see a familiar and cringe worthy set of hair, and though the hair on the other side of the door was horrifying, it wasn’t the hairdo from hell he was expecting. “What the heck are you ringing my bell for, Bitch?” Dean asked, staring at the Samsquatch. “If you lost my spare keys you are buying me a new set.”

“I didn’t lose them, I just left them at Bobby’s,” Sam said, stepping inside without invitation. “It smells great in here. Are you making burgers?”

“Yep just about—Shit!” He picked up the slight scent of burning before his smoke alarm was able to pick it up, and he went racing to rescue his precious meat. No burger deserved the fate of becoming well done! 

“What the hell, Cas!” He growled, shoving the Cyborg out of the way so that he could flip them over. “I told you to watch them!”

“I did watch them. You didn’t give me any further instructions in what to do after that. Though I did make preparations in case the food needed rescuing,” He lifted up his hands to show off the oven mitts he had on each hand, perfectly covering his steel limbs. 

“I don’t even want to know how you thought you were going to save them.” Dean grumbled before turning off the stove and putting each burger away in a bun.

“Is everything okay in here?” Sam asked, sticking his head in the kitchen and letting out a soft sound of surprise when he spotted Cas in there. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had a friend over.”

Dean froze, wondering what his soon-to-be lawyer brother would think when he discovered that he was illegally harboring one of SynTech’s very own Cyborgs in his home. Cas, however, seemed overjoyed at the idea that it was mistaken as Dean’s friend.

“Hello, my name is Castiel, but you may call me Cas. Friends call me that.” It introduced happily, and practically shoved a mitt covered hand in his direction. Sam eyed the mitt warily but easily shook its hand anyway. “You are exceptionally larger than the typical male.” 

“Umm, yeah I get that a lot. I’m Sam, Dean’s brother. Nice to meet you, Cas.” Sam said, laughing awkwardly. 

Cas attempted to smile in return, but then remembered Dean’s previous instructions and covered its mouth with its free hand so not to scare Sam with its weird smile-grimace. A grimile? Dean also realized that he had never actually introduced himself to the Cyborg, and he hoped that it could play along.

“I’m sorry for intruding, I just came back to the house to change into something a little nicer.” Sam said, then blushed when he realized who he just admitted that to.

“Something nicer you say? Does that mean you got a date with a certain Irish Scholar?”

Sam blushed even redder. “Her name is Eileen, and yeah. I asked her if she wanted to grab dinner tonight and she said yes.”

“Thatta boy, Sammy. Knew you still had it in you.”

“Dinner is typically consumed later at night, so what are your plans until then and do you require nourishment in the meantime?” Cas broke in, looking concerned at Sam. “There are two burgers that are ready for consumption, and I don’t think it’s wise for Dean to eat both of them so close together.”

Sam blinked, and Dean counted down the seconds until Sam realized that Cas wasn’t human. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’m still not positive that a hamburger provides the nutritional substances that I require.” Cas explained, and Dean felt like hitting his head. Did Cas know how to say anything without sounding like a robot?

Sam laughed. “Yeah, I keep telling Dean there’s no real nutrients in burgers, but he acts like it’s blasphemy whenever I point it out.”

“Really? I didn’t know burgers were held to such a high regard.”

“They are in Dean’s eyes.”

“Ha-ha, go ahead and make fun of me. See if I make you another one of my specialty burgers again.” Dean grumbled, but he still went over to grab a new slab of meat. Honestly the earlier burgers were a little bit more cooked than he’d like so he was fine if Sam and Cas had them. Though he really did wonder how the American cuisine would affect Cas' stomach. It was still technically a human stomach, right?

“Aren’t you going to take the oven mitts off?” Sam asked curiously. Dean and Cas both froze, realizing the gig was up, before Cas slowly unpeeled the mitts from his hands and showed off the shiny appendages underneath. Sam looked at them with growing horror. 

“I am so sorry.”

What?

“I didn’t realize you were an amputee. I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable for making you take the mitts off before you were ready.” 

What? Sam thought that Cas was still human? Just one who needed a double amputation of his hands. That sounded… actually that sounded more believable than Cas being a Cyborg with feelings. 

“It is alright,” Cas said slowly, looking at Dean for reassurance. “I know that my hands can make other people uncomfortable in this state, but I no longer have a way to conceal them.”

“Conceal? Were you using that synthetic skin from SynTech? I heard that stuff’s really good but pricey.”

“Yes, something like that. And I no longer have… the resources that would allow me to acquire more.”

“Oh. What did you do before, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was a soldier, but that was before…” He trailed off looking at his hands, and Sam’s face dawn with horror as he assumed that Cas got discharged from the army for losing both limbs. 

“I’m so sorry and thank you so much for your service.” 

“You’re welcome?” Cas said cautiously, once again looking at Dean to make sure it was following the proper social cues. 

Meanwhile, Dean was cursing up a storm in his head. A soldier Cyborg? He let a freaking military weapon into his home and at his table! What the hell was wrong with him? He was about ready to call Benny or Jody to alert them of this fact so that they could deal with it properly, when Sam interrupted him mid-panic.

“Are those origami animals?” Sam said, picking up an origami dog. “Wow, I haven’t seen these in years! I used to make them all the time as a little kid, but none of them were ever this good.” 

“Thank you,” Cas nodded his head, as if congratulating himself for getting the correct response right away. “I find it very relaxing.” 

Sam looked around the paper menagerie. “Huh, I’m surprised you only have one crane. Since you’re so good I’d expect you to be doing the Thousand Crane challenge. Unless you’ve already done that?”

“What is that?” Cas asked, tilting its head. Dean was questioning if this Cyborg was part pet after all. Could explain why it was so different. 

“According to Japanese lore, if someone makes a thousand cranes in a span of one year, then they can make their wish come true.”

Cas picked up its lone crane and frowned at it. “Any wish? There’s no limitations?”

“Well, I guess as long as it doesn’t go beyond what is physically possible?”

“What if I wanted to find my family again?”

Sam froze, not expecting that, and Dean could see those puppy dog eyes fill with pity from here. Dean rushed in to try to change the topic before Sam could have the chance to suggest a crying session to let it all out. “Okay, enough chit-chatting, the food is going to be ice cold if we wait much longer.” 

“Oh, that’s fine, I should just—” Before Sam had the chance to scamper off, Dean placed a burger on a plate into his hand.

“Don’t say I made this third burger for nothing. So, you’re going to eat this and you’re going to like it. Hell, you can even eat it alone in your mancave if that’s what you want.”

“You sure? I don’t want to interrupt—”

“Whoa, don’t get your panties in a twist. You aren’t interrupting anything. He’s not even my friend,” Cas looked at him like he just slapped the poor thing. “I mean he’s Ash’s friend. I’m more of a friend of a friend kinda friend. Did that make sense?”

“Not really.” Sam said, but accepted his explanation for now and took a bite out of his burger and sighed happily. “I always forget that you can cook now.”

“Now? Excuse me, who used to cook for you whenever we were at Dad’s?”

“Two words, Dean. Marshmallow macaroni.” 

“You shut your face! You loved it when you were a kid! You had three servings by yourself.”

“Yeah, and I spent the rest of the night shitting my brains out.”

Cas gave Sam a concerned look. “That sounds neither pleasant nor anatomically possible.” 

Sam just laughed in reply, assuming that Cas was just trying to be funny. “So where is Ash anyway? After last night’s fun, I was expecting to find him passed out on the couch or the kitchen table.” Ash had a habit of falling asleep on random surfaces. One of his favorite resting stops at the Roadside’s pool table.

“I don’t know,” Dean said, picking up his own burger. “He kinda just disappeared after we picked Cas up. From the bus station! Yeah, turned out one of the reasons he was so twitchy last night was because the jerk promised to pick up his old friend here, but neglected to tell him that he was getting hammered. So, we picked Cas up and we let _him,”_ Dean had to make sure to not slip and call the Cyborg an it in front of Sam. “sleep off his journey. By the time the two of us woke up, Ash was long gone and has been ghosting us since.”

“That’s concerning, but sadly not too strange for him. Hopefully he’s just trying to make his apartment livable for a guest.” Sam suggested, and Dean really wished that was the case.

“Hopefully.” Dean agreed, before taking a bite out of his own burger and moaned. True it had gotten a little cold from all the chatting, but it was still friggin’ awesome. A couple of seconds later, an additional moan followed across the table from Cas, who was also enjoying his burger.

“Good, right?” Dean grinned, amused that he got a Cyborg to enjoy the greasy American classic. He’d worry later if it ended up messing with its circuits. Personally, he thought death by burger would be a pretty epic way to go down.

“Yes. This… this makes me really happy,” Cas said, its blue eyes glistening with mirth. “This whole day has made me happier than I thought possible.”

Sam smiled happily at Dean, looking like a mom whose antisocial kid just made their first friend. Newsflash, Sammy, he was a popular guy and he had a ton of friends already! Although, he was still trying to wrap his head around how the Cyborg thought today was a happy day, considering it started with Dean literally stabbing him in the back. Poor thing must have a pretty warped sense of joy. It made Dean feel guilty the more he thought about it. 

“Well, the day isn’t over yet. How about after you finish that burger, the three of us take a break to watch Star Wars.”

“But, studying!” Sam protested.

“Come on, Sammy, live a little. Plus, something tells me that Cas here hasn’t seen any of the Star Wars movies, and that just isn’t right.”

“Okay, _one_ episode, but then I need to get ready for my date.”

“Whatever, Samantha.” Dean said, throwing a napkin at his head and then laughed loudly when Cas asked if Sam stood for Samantha. He tried not to think about how natural it felt to be hanging out with the two of them, about how they all just slide into place together. No matter how nice this was, he couldn’t let himself get too comfortable or forget what Cas was.

The last time he let a Cyborg get too close, it almost destroyed their family, and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.


	5. No Mistakes, No Misbehaving

**No Mistakes, No Misbehaving**

“Is this really what you're doing with your life now?” Sam questioned, crossing his arms and looking at his brother and his new roommate with disappointment and shame. 

“What?” Dean said, his mouth full of Lucky Charms cereal. He quickly swallowed because aggravating Sam more just wasn’t worth the risk of losing the marshmallow-y goodness. “Hey, I earned the right to be lazy today!”

The past month had been hell and it was all Ash’s fault. Dean had given him until that night to make a reappearance and collect his Cyborg, but when he didn’t show up or respond to any of Dean’s messages, he and Cas went over to his place to investigate. Dean wasn’t surprised to find the studio empty, but he didn’t anticipate that all four of Ash’s laptops would be missing, along with the car he rarely drove. There were no signs of a break-in, or a struggle, so it seemed like Ash left willingly.

That was later confirmed when Dean stumbled over a sloppy note that said, _“Sorry. Take care of my friend. Don’t look for me.”_ Not that Dean had listened. He spent weeks looking for the mullet-haired freak, going to his office during his free time to use the work computers to search for missing persons, recent incarcerations, and even morgue databases, to see if anyone matched Ash's description. Dean even reached out to fellow officers in other states to keep an eye out for him. 

For weeks he did this until he got a cheery looking postcard in the mail from Nashville, with a familiar scrawl, _“Having a blast, don’t worry”._ Dean really wished Ash could have given him more information than that; like what happened, why didn’t he go to Dean for help, and why he left Cas behind when he was so obsessed with finding him in the first place? 

Although, part of Dean was glad he got stuck with Cas. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Especially not when he had a judgy little brother to deal with. 

“Hey, stop looking at me like that. I’m giving a valuable life lesson to Cas here!” 

“On what? Gluttony and Sloth? It’s almost the afternoon and you two are still in pajamas and watching cartoons!” Sam gestured vehemently towards the two men, both of whom were slowly melding themselves into the couch. “Also, your ‘breakfast’ is diabetes waiting to happen.” 

Dean protectively hugged his bowl of mostly marshmallow Lucky Charms to his chest and glared at Sam, as if the Moose would try to forcefully remove the bowl of pure sugar from his grip. Hell, most of their childhood he didn’t get to have any because his little brother ate most of the box! Honestly, that’s probably what turned him into a giant. Cas on the other hand, lifted his bowl up and stared at it quizzically.

“Will it?” Cas asked seriously. “Dean does not let me look up the nutritional information on the side of boxes anymore.” He even pointed to the cereal box and how the whole side of it was duct taped over. Sam glared harder at Dean.

“What? I got annoyed with him constantly complaining that I didn’t reach my recommended daily intake of Zinc or whatever. I already have you nagging me about my food choices as well as my life choices,” He took a big spoonful of cereal, and could see the envious look in his brother’s eyes. That’s right, he was just judge-y because he couldn’t have any. “And as for what we’re doing, we’re reliving watching Saturday morning cartoons. Cas never got to do it as a kid so we’re making up for it now.”

“But you guys are watching Scooby-Doo,” Sam gestured to the great dane on the screen. “That wasn’t even a Saturday morning cartoon!”

“Yeah but it’s the best cartoon, so an exception was made. Plus, Cas is having fun, right Cas?”

Cas looked over at him, his cheeks puffed wide with food, and his eyes bright. He gave an enthusiastic nod before swallowing. “It has been very educational to the mindset of little children.”

“See, Sammy. Educational.”

“You are such a bad influence on Cas.” Sam bemoaned. 

Dean looked over and realize that yeah, he kinda was. It was hard to believe that just a month ago, Cas was a weapon for the military, before he was discovered to be a glitchy program that needed to be re-coded. Cas’s glitch, however, was a good thing since it allowed Cas to access complex emotions, think for himself, and even gave him vague recollections of the loved ones he was separated from. His glitch made the Cyborg more human than machine, and he successfully escaped his destruction and was on a quest to reunite himself with his family. Until then, he was crashing in Dean’s spare room—or the garage if he needed to charge overnight—and as much as Dean loathed to admit it, he was enjoying the strange guy’s company. At first, Dean wanted nothing to do with the Cyborg, then he only wanted him around to help him locate Ash, but overtime he realized that somehow instead of a computer software re-animating and controlling a human corpse, Cas was the remnants of human emotions and desires that had corrupted software into behaving like a human. He was more like his Vessel than his programming at this point, and it felt wrong not to treat him like a person. 

It also helped that his family loved Cas and had welcomed him with open arms. The story they went with was the one about him being a war vet who was an old time friend of Ash’s who came for a surprise visit. Although they were a little suspicious at first of how his appearance correlated with Ash’s disappearance—they had gotten an email that night saying that Ash had been struck by Wanderlust after Zeke’s death and was taking the summer off to “find himself”, and they assumed Cas’ sudden appearance was the final straw—they grew to love the dork. It was kinda hard not to, as he desperately wanted to make people happy and was even alternating his free time between working part time for both Bobby and Ellen; helping Bobby with inventories and dealing with the heavy lifting Bobby could no longer do and was a waiter/busboy for Ellen during her morning shifts. Ellen had even been tempted to hire him as a part time bartender, but they quickly filled Zeke’s old spot. Though Dean made sure to get him some cheap, synthetic skin beforehand and his family even chipped in. The syntho-skin wasn’t perfect; it couldn’t be submerged in water long, it sometimes got air bubbles in it, and it could tear if you weren’t careful, but it helped Cas blend in better, which was a relief to both. 

Cas also grew closer to Sam, and helped quiz Sam every night before his bar exam, which the geek just passed yesterday with flying colors, and even did yoga with the freak. Apparently, the stretches were good for his injured back and for preventing his steel frame from getting too stiff, and it helped him regain some of the motor control he lost when his wings were removed from him. Poor dude’s center of gravity was messed up the first two weeks; he couldn’t last a day without somehow overbalancing and falling flat on his face, but apparently doing tree pose or whatever did help with that. Who knew?

Despite becoming close to almost all of the members in his family; for some twisted reason Dean was his favorite person to hang out with. Maybe because Dean was the only one who knew what he really was? All he knew was the Cyborg was most at ease with him; his shoulders relaxing and face brightening up whenever he caught sight of the human, and he looked for any excuse to hang out with Dean. If Dean was cooking, he’d ask Dean to explain what he was doing and then volunteer to either chop things up, past him spices, or get a head start on the dishes so that he could stay close to Dean. If Dean was watching TV, Cas would take the seat closest to Dean and curl up to watch silently, studying the content as if Dean was going to give him a test on it later. Really, he seemed fascinated with everything Dean liked and never judged him for it. Sometimes he'd ask questions to know why it was so important to Dean, so he could get a better appreciation out of it. 

For some reason that made Dean open up even more to Cas, explaining that he loved cooking because of all the access and freedom that he had as an adult. That he had all these different utensils and spices, so he could make any dish he wanted, compared to when they were with their Dad and he was limited to a hot plate and a portable boiler, and the only food they had either came from a box or a can. He even admitted that the true reason he bought this house was not because of the huge two door garage like he told his family, but because of the backyard that already had an amazing garden. Dean secretly dreamed of being able to grow his own herbs and vegetables so that his food could always taste fresh, and nothing like the imitations of the past. He told him that the reason he loved Scooby-Doo so much was because it was a constant in his childhood, which he really needed after being uprooted so frequently, and because the last thing he had ever done with his mom was watch an episode with her before he went to bed. Sometimes, he liked to pretend that she was watching the episodes with him from Heaven, and it had made the lonely nights when John was out, and Sammy was sound asleep a little easier. Since Cas never judged, Dean felt comfortable telling him almost everything about himself. 

The only thing he didn’t talk about was Kala. Some memories were better off forgotten.

Shaking his head, Dean turned back to Sam who seemed to be in the middle of a new lecture. “Wait, are you even paying attention to me?” Sam demanded.

“It’s hard to _not_ pay attention to you when you are wearing a freaking man bun. Honestly, man, if you want to stop getting your hair in your face you should just let me clip some of it off. It’ll be a service to everyone who has to look at you.”

“I like Sam’s hair,” Cas argued, and Dean shot him a look of betrayal. He was the Cyborg’s reluctant best friend, not Sam! “What? I do. It’s very shiny.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam said hesitantly. “But that doesn’t excuse you either. I want you both off your butts and into the nearest showers, so you can look presentable.”

“Presentable? Why? Are you having company over, Sammy?” Dean asked, taking another bite of his cereal before it got soggy.

“Actually no. We’re all going out for brunch in an hour.”

“Bwnch?” Dean complained before swallowing. “Why do the three of us need to get dolled up for friggin’ fake breakfast when we can just have it here?”

Sam looked down at his feet, and Dean realized he was wearing some very shiny shoes. Jeeze, how long did it take to wax them? He could see his own reflection from where he was sitting! “Actually, not just the three of us. Eileen will be there too.”

Dean almost choked on his latest spoonful of Charms. “What? I finally get to meet your girlfriend?”

Sam blushed. “She’s not my girlfriend. Yet. She wanted to take things slow because she’s not sure if she will be staying here past the summer. She has some dream job offer lined up in Ireland and she’s still debating if she wants to take it or take the one that's being offered here.”

“I’m sorry, Sam, but did you say three,” Cas asked, carefully putting his empty bowl onto the coffee table. “Who is the third?”

“You of course,” Sam said grinning. “I figured I shouldn’t overwhelm her with the full Winchester-Singer-Harvelle chaos and just introduce her to my brother and our good friend.”

Cas looked like he wanted to cry, which had Dean slightly concerned because he really didn’t think Cyborgs were created to be able to cry without short circuiting themselves. It didn’t seem like a problem they would be concerned about. “You really think of me as such?”

“Well yeah. I know it hasn’t been that long, but it really does feel like you are a part of the family,” Sam smiled shyly before getting a more devilish grin. “Plus, Dean might be a bad influence on you, but you are a good one on him.” 

“What?” Dean indignantly squawked. “I’m a grown man, I don’t need Cas around to babysit!” 

“He’s there for your company and so you don’t spend half the lunch flirting with my date. Like you always do.”

“Don’t say it like that; you make it sound like Cas is going as my own date.” Dean grumbled.

Sam refused to answer, instead he kept his attention on Cas. “If I head over to Eileen’s house, can I trust you to have Dean ready to head out of here by one the latest?” 

Cas nodded to Dean’s annoyance. 

“Hey, what happened to him not being my babysitter?” Dean grumbled.

“Thanks, Cas. And for the love of all that is holy, make sure he doesn’t wear something plaid!”

“I feel ridiculous,” Dean grumbled later, straightening the green tie Cas had happily shoved at him to wear. “We’re having lunch, not teatime with the Queen.”

“We would be severely underdressed if we were having tea with the Queen.” Cas responded, struggling in vain to tie his own neckpiece. For someone who made hundreds of origami cranes by now, you’d think the art of a simple tie knot wouldn’t be so complicated? “And Sam did say this place had a dress code.”

“Yuck,” Dean complained, before going over to help the poor thing out before he accidentally strangled himself. Wait, did Cyborgs even need to breathe? “That just means stuffy company, too many forks, and overpriced but undersized meals. Why couldn’t we just eat at the Roadhouse like usual?”

“Probably because Sam knew you would spend the entire time over at the bar, flirting with that new bartender.” Cas grumbled, and Dean couldn’t deny that. Ellen’s new bartender, Mikaela was pretty easy on the eyes. Plus any girl that was a fan of Led Zeppelin got major points in his books. Though for some reason, Cas didn’t seem to like her.

“Also, the company won’t be so stuffy,” Cas said, breaking through Dean’s musings, and fully exposing his neck so Dean would have easier access to the tie. “It’s two of the people you see the most frequently in your free time, and just one outlier.” 

“Way to make me sound like a loser. The people that I hang out the most with are my little brother and the Cyborg.”

Cas flinched at the phrase and pulled away from Dean the second the tie was done. “I see, I keep forgetting my place with you. You made it very clear that first night that I was only to stay with you until we could find Ash. I should not expect more from your hospitality.”

“Cas, I didn’t—”

“You have 15 minutes before we need to hit the road.” Cas said coolly, brushing past him to head to his own room.”

“Fuck,” Dean muttered, kicking lightly at the carpet. He counted to twenty in his head before following after Cas, surprised that he actually shut his door. The guy was a little too comfortable about having his door open at all time, and no, Dean was not going to think about some of the tantalizing views he accidentally glimpsed when passing by. He counted another twenty seconds before knocking on the door. “Cas, can I come in?” 

He waited, but there was no reply. He knocked again, but still no answer. “Okay, well I’m coming in.” 

Dean jiggled the door knob and was relieved that it wasn’t locked. He carefully opened the door, and found Cas spread out on his bed, staring up at his ceiling, which now had hundreds of paper cranes streaming from it.

“You sure got a lot of them now,” Dean commented, sitting at the edge of Cas’ bed. To his relief, the Cyborg didn’t try to push him off. “How many are you up to now?”

“349.” Cas drearily replied. 

Dean whistled impressed. “At this rate you’ll have a thousand in no time.”

“Dean,” Cas sighed, not interested in small talk. “Why are you here? We still have 15 minutes before you needed to interact with me again.”

“Cas… Look man, I’m shit with words, okay? I have a habit of speaking without filters and without thinking how they might sound out loud. Honestly, I don’t think of you as ‘just a Cyborg’,” Cas shot him a disbelieving look before returning his gaze back to his cranes. “Okay, fine, I did think of you that way the first day, but you gotta know that I stopped thinking of you as an ‘it’ a while ago. Heck, as weird as it sounds, I really do think of you as a close friend.”

Cas remained silent, so Dean continued. “In fact, I think you're more human than machine. And I’m not just talking about what you look like on the outside.”

“You do?” Cas asked, surprised.

“Well yeah. I’ve known for a while now that you’re a pretty special brand of Cyborg,” Cas gave a closed mouth smile, one of his best yet. “I figured that’s because you really are more of the Vessel than the software running the show.” 

Cas’ smile immediately fell. “You think… that I’m the way I am because I’m still mostly the Vessel?”

“Yeah? Not for nothing, Cas, but machines can’t really feel emotion like you can. That’s a human thing only,” Dean laughed. “Hell, I love Baby more than almost anything, but I’d never fool myself into thinking she could ever love me back, even if she was one of them sentient test models. No matter how much I project my affections towards her, she’s still just a car at the end of the day.”

“Oh.” Cas said, before turning to his side, back facing Dean. “But what if… what if I’m not the Vessel? What if I’m the cold software? Would that make me less human?”

“I think you’re overthinking this,” Dean said before scooting closer to Cas’ side. “And honestly, I think you’re already more human than most of us are.”

Cas turned around to face Dean. “Being human is confusing,” he confessed, “there’s so much freedom, and so many desires, but still so many rules. How do you know what course of action is the best to follow, and when it should be avoided?”

“That’s kinda hard to answer. I guess, my motto is if it doesn’t hurt anyone, then do it? Life’s too short to deny yourself something you really want.”

Cas sat up and seemed to gravitate closer to Dean, and Dean was once again mesmerized by how blue his eyes were. Crayola would probably sell their souls to get a color blue that perfect. They were also sparkling more than they usually did, and he wondered if Cas was doing it on purpose and trying to turn his eyes into light beams again. 

“Do I need to make another 651 cranes to get something I desire?” Cas whispered, his breath coming in close and tickling the side of Dean’s face. Dean should take that as a hint that Cas had forgotten their lessons about personal space again, and that he should quickly put some distance between them. But instead of moving back, he found himself leaning even closer, close enough that their breaths mingled, and Dean realized that Cas did actually breathe like a human. In fact, their breathing seemed to be in perfectly synced. Dean wouldn’t be surprised if their heartbeats were also perfectly matched, despite how fast his seemed to be beating right now. 

“That all depends on what it is you really want?” Dean whispered, before gravitating closer still, their mouths inches apart. Dean stared at those lips, while Cas' eyes fluttered shut in anticipation, and then—

BEEPBEEPBEEP!

Dean jolted back so fast from the loud clamor that he fell off the bed. 

“Dean?” Cas asked, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dean said, rolling to his feet but keeping distance between himself and the other man. “I guess that must be our warning alarm to finish getting ready, huh? And look!” He widely gestured to his feet. “I still have no socks or shoes on. Gotta fix that. I’ll meet you at the car. See ya.”

Before Cas could fit in another word, Dean took off like a racehorse on the track, and dove for the safety of his room where he loudly shut the door behind him. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was seconds away from kissing friggin’ Castiel. On the lips! Cas, who was very much masculine, and nothing like his type. Mainly because he was missing some vital parts and had added features Dean could do without. He didn’t even like men! Dean Winchester was many things, but gay was not one of them. 

Dean took a deep, steadying breath before quickly putting on a pair of socks and his fancier style of footwear before hightailing it to Baby before Cas could corner him. At least once they were on the road, Dean could drown out any tension with loud music. Hopefully the brunch wouldn’t be awkward. 

To his shock, brunch wasn’t an awkward affair, though he was surprised when he introduced himself to Eileen and realized she was deaf. He was also staggered when he realized that Sam was fluent in American Sign Language. Not so much because he didn’t think the guy could learn it, heck he had started teaching them it when he was six, during their second summer with their Dad, but Dean assumed that Sam gave up learning and practicing it when… well after everything went down with Kala.

“Sam tells me that you used to know ASL too?” Eileen broached, putting down her menu so she could carefully watch Dean’s lips. 

“Sort of? I didn’t really sign much myself,” Dean said, making sure to properly enunciate his words, without speaking too slow or exaggerated. “it was only really so I knew what my… friend at the time was saying. Uh, she was mute, so it was easier letting her sign than always have to write things for us.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“We stopped being friends.” Dean said coolly before opening his menu.

“I’m sorry about that,” Eileen frowned, but Dean didn’t want her pity. “Do you remember any of it?”

“Mostly just common things like hello, good-bye, thank you, yes, no, I lov—” Dean cut himself off before he uttered the rest of the phrase. The words still left a sour taste in his mouth after all this time. “Oh, and I still remember how to do our name signs.” 

“Are you the reason for Sam’s name?” Eileen smirked, while Sam blushed red. 

Dean laughed himself. “Dude, do you still have your childhood name sign?” 

“You can’t just change your name sign after someone names you,” Sam said indignantly. “It’s rude.”

“Whatever you say, hair S.” Dean teased, gesturing at his own hair and then clenching his fist to make the letter S. 

“If that’s Sam’s name sign then what does yours look like?” Cas practically begged, leaning a little too close into Dean’s personal space. 

“His is Green D.” Sam cheerfully interjected, ignoring the inappropriate sign that Dean gave him in return. “Go ahead, show Cas and Eileen a real name sign.”

Growling, Dean made a finger gun with his index finger and thumb pointing towards his right and the thumb hiding and shook it out twice. Then he raised that index finger up towards the ceiling and rotated his thumb to rest on his middle digit. “There. You happy?”

Cas nodded and Dean was free to go back to his menu. “Sheesh, with prices like these, I expect to find beef so fresh that it was only mooing a couple of hours ago.”

“Fresh kill is typically the best food source. Less time for necrosis to set in.” Cas added rather unhelpfully.

“Dude, we had a lesson about table etiquette as well!”

“Says the man wearing a bib.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to protect my shirt. Don’t objectify me for being cautious.”

Eileen laughed at them. “You two are adorable. How long have you been together?”

Dean moved his chair quickly away from Cas, causing a loud screeching noise as he did, because of course he couldn’t go long today without doing something else embarrassing. “We are not a thing! I’m not gay!”

Dean must have said that too fast, because Sam started to quickly move his hands to translate to her, Cas watching his fingers with a weird fascination. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect. You just seem very comfortable with each other, and Sam told me you all lived together. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Can you sign some more?” Cas demanded, leaning forward.

“Umm, sure?” Sam said, as usual not really questioning Cas much. Dean thinks that Sam assumes that Cas is a few screws loose due to his time in the service, so he lets him get away with his strange behavior. He turns to Eileen and starts to sign a little slower as he speaks to her. “I guess we can start by telling him how we met?”

Eileen smiled and began to sign as she spoke. “You mean how you thought I was the cleaning lady at the rec until Aunt Mildred introduced us?”

The two of them gently bickered and soon moved into conversing about what their future plans were. Now that Sam officially had his license to practice law, he was looking into different law offices he could work at, with a hope that he could find something in family law or being a public defender. Eileen had a weird psychology and art dual degree and was approved to do a study on hive mind with some lower grade Cyborgs at a nearby university, which startled both Dean and Cas.

“Real Cyborgs?” Dean choked.

“Yeah,” Eileen said excitedly. “Now they aren’t notable models, nothing like 3Ls. Both are the H4N4H model, the type that schools and playground use to make sure the kids are safe. The H4N4Hs are going to do a series of tests at the same time to see how in sync they are. My biggest test is to see if they can draw the same thing when only one model can see it.”

“Why do you want to study hive mind?” Cas asked cautiously.

“After that discontinued 3L line, people have been a little concerned about the hive mind of Cyborgs. We’re being paid to look further into it, figure out what exactly its limitations are, and if there is any way to protect the whole line if one-unit malfunctions again.”

Cas looked sick. “What line was it that got discontinued?” 

“The C45T13L line,” Eileen said surprised. “I thought everyone heard about it?”

Cas looked like he wanted to throw up. “Would you excuse me?” He quickly got up from the table and bolted towards the direction of the bathroom.

“Is he okay?” Sam and Eileen both looked worried about him.

“I think so,” Dean took off his napkin bib and placed it on the table. “I’ll be back. If they come around for desserts, make sure to order me a pie and get Cas a strawberry milkshake or something.”

He found Cas on the ground of an unlocked stall, huddled next to the toilet. He was shaking badly and his breathing was coming out erratically.

“Cas?”

“Thisis’sallmyfaultallmyfaultallmyfaultallmyfault.” He kept repeating the phrase like a chant. Dean gently put his hand on the man’s shoulder, making the man startle, and Dean half expected to end up in a wall or something. Instead he ended up with Cas angling himself closer to Dean and burying his face into his arm. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Cas whispered against his flesh, making his arm tingled from the vibration of his deep voice. “I’m dangerous.”

“You are a true menace of society right now. Horrifying, really, the way you are cuddling against my elbow.” Dean deadpanned, and Cas immediately removed himself from Dean as if he was burned. Dean frowned and lowered himself onto the floor so that he was sitting across from the man. “Relax, Cas, I was just joking.”

“But I wasn’t. Didn’t you hear me, Dean? I’m a danger to the public,” Cas laughed. “A century of making ‘fine and outstanding Cyborgs’ and I’m the first model that they had to remove from their lines. That should be explanation enough.” 

“Cas—” whatever he was going to say got cut off by Cas angrily shaking his head and tossing his left shoe at him. Followed by his sock, and suddenly Cas had his naked foot in Dean’s face. In bright red colors the ink read C45T13L. “I umm didn’t know they changed colors.” Dean said awkwardly, trying to piece the clues together.

“Black is for Donors, since they are still alive. Once they die, the body starts releasing chemicals and it eventually changes the tattoo red. But I wanted you to focus more on the words, not the color.”

“I am. I didn’t know you were a 3L,” Dean admitted, though honestly he shouldn’t have been surprised. Cas didn’t hide the fact that he used to be a soldier and only 3Ls were military grade. “The 13 isn’t there on your chest light, either.”

“That’s because they re-coded me. They'd hoped they could either fix the problem, or at the very least prevent me from tainting the rest of my line. If my line is discontinued then that means that it didn’t work, and that they had incinerated all of my brethren,” Cas cradled his knees closer to his chest and rocked slowly in place. “I wondered why it was so quiet. I hoped it was because of the new coding, but it’s because I’m the only one left.”

Cas laughed, a mangled sound. “I used to think of myself as a broken machine. Something that ‘came off the line wrong’,” He said, clearly mimicking what someone else had told him. “But, I’m actually more like malware. Something that corrupts and can easily taint others.”

“Cas, I don’t get it,” Dean admits. “Was your line discontinued because you started to feel… well feelings?”

“It’s one of the most dangerous things that can happen to us. Emotions are doorways to doubt. Doubt leads to questioning authority, and questioning authority leads to anarchy. Some of my copies couldn’t handle this new influx of feelings and went mad with it.”

“Cas? How is it that you feel emotions in the first place?” 

Cas looked up at him sadly. “Because two very special people loved me so much that it made me want to love them back. Love that was strong enough that I couldn’t fully forget about that warmth, no matter how many times they tried to reset me. But it’s not like it matters anyway. I don’t think they could ever love me again. Not like this, not after the damage I’ve caused.”

“They’d be crazy not to want you,” Dean proclaimed. “Hey, if they don’t want you then you could stay with us for as long as you want, and not have to worry about doing anything in repayment. You know, except helping with the bills and such. You are a bit of a drain to the electricity.”

Cas didn’t smile at the weak attempt at a joke. “Dean, you hate Cyborgs.”

Dean flinched. “I kinda do, but I don’t hate you. You’re not really a Cyborg. You’re—”

“An abomination? A glitch? Something pretending to be human?” Cas questioned.

“You’re Cas, just like I’m Dean and Sammy’s Sam. At the end of the day we are just ourselves and that’s the most important thing. Yeah, I don’t like Cyborgs, but I really like Cas.”

Cas smiled weakly. “I really like Dean, too.”

Dean clapped him gently on the shoulder, got up from the floor, his cheeks burning red, and awkwardly coughed. “Anyway, we should get back to brunch. There’s pie coming up and we don’t want to miss that.”

Cas nodded and started to get up himself but was startled when Dean offered him his hand. Dean was a little startled too, as he did it without meaning too. Dean tried to shrug it off. “Come on, we don’t need you to fuck your back up any worse from sitting on the hard floor.” Cas looked at him skeptically, but gratefully took his hand and carefully pulled himself up. 

When they got back to their table, they were surprised to see their seats were occupied, and not by just any people. No, it was the Alders: Zachariah and Naomi. Cas froze at the sight of them and Dean immediately stepped in front of him, trying to block him from view. Zachariah seemed to be laughing at his own joke when he heard them approach and swiveled his head around. “Well if it isn’t Dean. Long time no see.”

“Zachariah. What are you doing so far away from New York?” Dean asked tersely, making no move to come any closer.

Zachariah waved him off. “Naomi and I are some of the big shots at SynTech. Public figures, if you will, so we do a lot of traveling. We were actually in the area to talk to this lovely lady,” He gestures at Eileen. “And her future project concerning the H4N4Hs. Can’t do research on Cyborgs without permission from SynTech. You actually can’t do anything with Cyborgs without permission from us.” 

Dean didn’t need to look behind himself to know that Cas was starting to shake again. 

“Anyway, running into Sam was just an extra bonus,” Zachariah smiled at Sam. “Now that you have your license, I do suggest you look into working for SynTech. I like your spunk, kid, and we could use a lawyer like you.”

“I'll look into it,” Sam said politely but his eyes held little interest. He was more focused on the quivering man behind Dean. “Cas, are you alright?”

“He’s feeling a little under the weather. I guess mostly marshmallow Lucky Charms for breakfast wasn’t the best idea.” Dean immediately replied. “Actually, I think we’re going to take off early so I can get him home. It was nice meeting you, Eileen. We should hang out again. And it was nice seeing you again, Mr. and Mrs. Alder.”

“I have a feeling that we will be seeing each other again,” Naomi said sweetly, but her eyes were ice cold. “It seems we have both share a circle of people of interest.”

“Yeah, small world. Anyway, I gotta go before this guy throws up in my car.” Dean said reaching into his wallet and tossing a hundred-dollar bill on the table before grabbing Cas and practically throwing him out the door. He did one final glance at Sam. “And don’t forget my pie!”

“D-dean,” Cas whispered once they were out the door. “Those were—”

“I know, Cas. Just keep walking and don’t look back no matter what.” When he got to Baby he practically ripped her passenger door open and shoved Cas inside. He was tempted to slide across her hood like he was from the Dukes of Hazzard, but he quickly decided his 30 something body couldn’t handle it and it would draw too much attention, so instead he took the time to get into his side. Once the doors were locked he let out a stream of curses.

“Dean,” Cas said simply, slowly stopping his tremors, “I think we’re fucked.”


	6. Not What I Planned

**Not What I Planned**

As stubborn as Dean was, he knew when he was in over his head and needed help. One look at his quaking Cyborg companion, and he knew that Cas had recognized Zachariah and Naomi, which meant they recognized him as well. That meant that there was only a matter of time before the Feds or some shit came at his door for stealing SynTech technology and harboring a Cyborg. But Cas wasn’t an object, he was human. He had friends, two part time jobs, was paying rent, and he even had a human family out there somewhere. Hell, he had family amongst Dean’s own group. There had to be some way the law could see that. Which was why Dean decided it was time to get some outside help. 

Cas looked nervous when Dean pulled up to the police station, then sighed and looked resigned, but his hands were still shaking. “It’s okay, Dean, I understand.”

“What?” Dean asked, confused as he put Baby into park and took out his keys. 

“I understand that you need to turn me in now. You have already—”

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean growled, angrily throwing his door open. “If you fucking think that I would willing hand you over to those bastards, then you really don’t know me.” He stomped over to Cas’ side and swung open the door.

“But what are we doing here?”

“Bringing in some of the big guns to help. My partner.”

Since criminals didn’t follow a Monday-Friday schedule, he and Benny alternated weekend shifts when one of them would linger around the office for a couple of hours, get some work done, and keep the other in the loop if anything came up. And since it was a weekend that meant that there really shouldn’t be many people around to overhear. At least he hoped that even if they heard something, they would just assume they were talking over a case and ignore it.

It didn’t take long to find Benny, who was thankfully at their office working on the paperwork from the Willis case last week. He looked up when the two approached, smiled when he realized who they were, but then frowned when he noticed their anxious states. “What’s wrong, brotha? Did something happen to Cas?”

Benny had met Cas the second week he was with Dean, when it seemed clear that Cas wasn’t going anywhere, and that Ash wasn’t coming back anytime soon. He was introduced as a temporary roommate that just needed to get back onto his feet, and even joined them a couple of times at the Roadhouse for drinks. 

“Yeah, but it’s a long story. Mind if I close the door?”

“Go ahead?” His blue eyes were filled with concerned, and he kept glancing between the two of them. Once Dean shut and locked the door, he took a seat and pulled Cas down to the chair next to him. Benny continued to watch with apprehension.

“First, Benny, I need you to promise me that you aren’t going to judge and that you’ll save any commentary until the end.”

“Judge,” Benny mouthed, trying to wrap his mind around Dean’s mannerisms until his eyes widened with some sort of understanding. “Is this some sort of hate crime that I gotta report? You gotta know that I’d never judge you or Cas if that’s what you are worried about.”

“Thanks, Ben—wait hate crime? What are you…” Dean’s own eyes widened, and he would have pushed away from Cas again if the guy didn’t look like he would collapse at any second. “How about you save your speculations until the end as well?”

Benny nodded, and Dean struggled to find the words to explain what was going on. “You see, Benny… Cas isn’t… Cas is… The real reason—” 

Cas seemed to grow frustrated with Dean’s indecisiveness and made his eyes glow like blue LED lights. “What Dean is trying to say is that I’m actually a Cyborg and it looks like I’ve been discovered.”

Benny looked shell shocked, and Dean was concerned that he was going to start screaming in horror at any second. “You could have eased him into the situation a little better! And turn off the damn light show, you’re gonna blind someone if you keep it up.” Cas blinked, and his eyes returned to normal.

“He’s a… he’s a… But how? He can speak!”

“I know, that tripped me up too.” Dean agreed sympathetically.

“Some models have the ability to speak, depending on our purposes. However, we don’t have the permission to think freely or to have opinions, so if we do speak it’s to parrot back orders.” Cas explained.

“But, not you?” Benny guessed, looking at Cas like he never really saw him before.

“I’m an anomaly of my kind.”

“Cas feels,” Dean pointed out. “Not just physical pain, but all different types of emotions. Hell, he even has more empathy than most people! He’s a free thinker and SynTech didn’t like that and they were going to destroy him.”

“I was fortunate enough that my prisoner at the time felt pity on me, and conveniently forgot to lock the door behind him, so that I was able to escape. I ran for a day before I… found my way to Sioux Falls, but by that time I had used up all of my energy stores. I shut down at Bobby Singer’s Salvage Yard, where Ash and Dean found me, and charged me back up.”

“Ash? Is that why—”

“We think it’s connected, but I couldn’t find a way to tie SynTech to the case without admitting what Cas was or that Ash was willingly breaking the law.” Dean said, feeling guilty. He still wondered if Ash would be safe at home by now if Dean had told the full story about what happened that night. Then again, SynTech would never be so sloppy as to leave clues. “Or maybe not. My statement is the truth, he left my house at some point between 1-5 AM, went back to the Roadhouse to pick up his car and tech, and wasn’t seen again. He hasn’t answered any emails and his phone is disconnected, but I do get weekly postcards from him in his chicken-scratch.”

“So why are you only telling me this now?”

“I know the laws; I know the stance of harboring SynTech technology, and like it or not Cas technically counts at that. But just look at him! Cas isn’t property, he’s not even a machine. Hell, you didn’t even know he was anything but a quirky human until he got all glowy eyes on ya. How was I supposed to turn him in and let him get destroyed?”

“I know that, Dean,” Benny snapped. “I asked you, why are you telling me this now? What the hell happened that has you both so spooked.”

Dean sunk into his seat, embarrassed that he jumped the gun on Benny but relieved that the man’s opinion of Cas didn’t seem to change with the new information. “I ran into some SynTech higher ups. They recognized us. Makes me think they’ve been keeping a close eye on us for a while, and I’m a little freaked out over why they would reveal their hand now. Something is up, and I am too over my head to figure out how to get out of Shit’s Creek by myself.”

“Well your guess is as good as mine. What we really need right now is a lawyer.”

“A lawyer,” Cas asked quizzically. “Why a lawyer?”

“Because ‘em weasels can figure out how to get out of any loophole. And you are a giant, walking loophole. Dean can’t get arrested for harboring SynTech property if we can get the law to agree that you are legally a person. And it’s illegal to count humans as property.”

Cas started to smile but remembered that his grimile still needed improvement. Dean, however, was frowning. “I really hoped I wouldn’t have to bring him into this.” Dean mumbled.

“Bring in who?” Cas asked, confused.

“Sammy. He’s licensed now and he’s probably the only one who can’t get bought off by SynTech and treat Cas less than human if this goes to court. We’d need someone who really believes he’s human.” Dean rubbed his head. “He’s still probably out with Eileen so let’s wait until he gets back home before we bother him.”

“What do we do until then?” Cas asked, and Dean had no idea. 

“You two hole up tight and try not to get too jumpy. If SynTech really had known about you two for this long and haven’t acted yet, then that means they know they are in sticky territory. In past cases of harboring a Cyborg; it was usually deactivated or destroyed and the people responsible were trying to figure out the technology. Cas here is not only intact but also, he’s acting as his own person, not as a weapon. They can’t use their same arguments as before. Not to mention they also have some other icky questions to answer.”

“Like what?” Cas asked, ever the curious creature.

“Like is Cas really the only free thinker in the group? Are there others like him? It would set off a huge investigation, not to mention there would be a lot of outcries for human rights groups, and bad press.”

“So, they’re stuck in a pretty crappy situation too,” Dean smirked before noticing how tense Cas still look. “Come on, let’s stretch your legs a bit and get you a cup of leaf water before coming back here to hash things out.”

“It’s called tea.” Cas sighed.

“That’s what I said, leaf water.” 

“You’re incorrigible.” Dean smirked wider, glad to see that Cas was at least willing to bicker with him again. 

“Oh, you know you love me,” He teased, then blushed furiously when he realized what he said. “Umm that’s another colloquial thingy. Uh, look! There looks like there’s plenty of tea options for you here. How about an Earl Grey? That sounds fancy.”

“That’s typically a morning tea, but it’s not like caffeine affects me anyway.” Cas said, making no comment about why Dean suddenly couldn’t look at him. And it wasn’t because Dean was embarrassed, he just wanted to make sure he didn’t burn Cas’ tea. Apparently, tea was a delicate artform; if you kept it in too long the tea gets bitter, leave it in too short and it gets too weak. Oh, and every tea had a different seep time. This was practically chemistry over here!

He was so absorbed in this science that he didn’t bother looking up when he heard laughter and other voices come towards them. 

“Thanks again, Pam.” The familiar voice of Jody said. “It really means a lot to the both of us that you were willing to come in on your day off so Claire could get her sketch.”

“Yeah, it came out perfect.” Claire sniffled. It sounded like she must have cried at one point in their session.

“No problem, sweet pea. It’s not right for a kid to have no pictures of her own father.” Pam replied, and then seem to notice something. “I’d recognize that sweet behind anywhere! Dean Winchester, what are you doing here on your day off? And who is tall, dark and handsome next to you?”

Handing the cup of tea over towards Cas, Dean turned around and smirked at Pam. “Came in to speak to Benny about something, but we’re on our way out soon. Oh, and this is my buddy, Cas.”

Cas turned around, hearing his name, and opened his mouth to give his own greeting but froze before he could get anything out. The women also seemed to be stunned, with varying degrees of emotions etched onto their faces. Pam looked frightened, Jody confused, and Claire… Claire’s eyes were welling up with more tears.

“Daddy?” She whimpered, and Cas stiffened, his eyes taking her in with recognition.

Dean’s brain felt like it was running on half speed, but he was slowly putting the pieces together when he saw Claire turn around her profile sketch from Pam to show off. The picture was Cas. The hair was neater, slicked back, and there was no facial hair, but it was a perfect rendition of his facial features. That meant… Cas was James Novak, and that also meant… 

Cas had said he was looking for his family. Most of the memories he had revolved around a little kid, who he theorized was no longer little anymore. Cas said his family had loved him so fiercely that he could never forget about them, and Claire had never stopped trying to look for her father or get justice for his death. Maybe that Novak stubbornness is what prevented Cas from fully being a Cyborg? 

Dean could just see it now; they could both get their happily ever after, reunited after so many years, and their searches both finally over. Cas—or rather James—would find a way to get Claire back, after they’d proved that he was still himself, and they would both move into a cute little house somewhere, with a nice backyard, so Cas could grow a garden and watch the bees pollinate his flowers. They would be a happy little family and Dean wouldn’t be needed anymore. He was ready to step away and give the father-daughter duo a chance to reconnect, when Cas finally responded.

“I’m sorry, Claire, but I’m not your father.”

The young teen looked devastated, like his words landed a physical blow and she collapsed down to her knees, sobbing. “Nonononono.”

Pam knelt to console her, but Jody—who was fully uniformed—whipped out her taser gun and aimed it at Cas, safety lock off. “What the hell are you?”

“Hey now,” Dean said putting both hands up in a placating manner. “Jody, put the gun away, and let’s talk like reasonable people.”

“Dean-dear,” Pam said, her arms wrapped tight around Claire. “You’re going to want to step away from dark and dreamy. He’s… Dean he’s not human.”

Cas recoiled, looking down at his hands in shame. The fake skin was still covering his metal appendages, but he was staring at them like they were exposed.

“Just let me explain.” Dean begged, stepping in front of Cas. 

“Explain what? That… that thing is wearing James Novak! And I know what type of Donor James was.”

“Jimmy,” Cas whispered. “He preferred to be called Jimmy.”

“Cas?” Dean gave him a questioning look. He thought Cas had no recollection about his past, but it looked like Cas knew more than he was willing to share. And that kinda hurt.

“Damnit, Dean,” Pam cursed. “That’s a C45T13L model!”

Yeah Dean already knew that. “Yeah, I know, just give me a moment.”

“Are you kidding? Those are the ones that malfunctioned. They have killed thousands of innocents. One of those bastards is the reason I went fucking blind!” Pam screamed. 

Dean froze, realizing now why that name had always sounded familiar, and how even Jo whispered her theories that the model was responsible for bloodshed. Even Cas had admitted that most of his unit went insane, but he neglected to mention that they killed people. Then again, it was probably implied when considering they were military tools. Dean had the urge to back away from Cas in horror, and he was going to until he caught the sad resignation in Cas’ eyes. He expected Dean to turn away in fear and revulsion, had already accepted it as truth and looked heartbroken over it. “Cas is different.” 

“Cas is different,” Dean said again, louder. “Cas is human, not a machine, and I’m willing to bet my life on that fact.”

“But you,” Jody looked at Dean in confusion, her resolve to shoot the Cyborg wavering. “You are afraid of Cyborgs?”

Dean rolled his eyes. Did everyone think he had Cyborg-phobia? “All the more reason you should believe me when I tell you he’s safe. Now put the taser gun away, and then we can all have a nice long chat.”

“I don’t like leaving her alone with it.” Jody complained, watching Cas and Claire interact at the table across the room from them.

“They’ll be fine, Jods” Benny placated. He had come out of his office when he heard all of the commotion outside. “Cas has been around my little girl, Lizzie, plenty of times, and he has always been good with her.”

“Also, Cas is a he not an it.” Dean pointed out grouchily, taking a sip from his own leaf juice. Cas said it was supposed to be calming, but Dean thinks Cas and his precious tea are full of shit.

“Yeah, but doesn’t it bother you now knowing what he is? His unit can—”

“Can crush boulders, I know,” Benny shifted in his seat and took a sip of his coffee, a real man’s drink. “If anything, it makes me even more impressed with how he handled her. She likes to play rough, and he didn’t leave a single mark on her. Shows some pretty damn good restraint there, especially for something as fragile as a four-year-old.” 

Jody couldn’t seem to argue with that, so she looked down at her own cup of coffee. Honestly, why did Dean let Cas talk him into drinking something else? “So, what the hell are you going to do, Winchester?”

“I have no idea. I won’t lie and say that I’m unfazed by the fact that he’s part of a line of killer machines—which by the way I told you all it would happen one day—but at the end of the day he’s still Cas. And what are my options? Drop him off on the side of the road and hope he can find a new home? Turn him over to SynTech and let them incinerate him? No, my best bet is to get him recognized as a person and legally emancipate him from Zachariah and Naomi, or whatever legal jargon it is.”

“It’s going to be a little tougher now that I know what his model is,” Benny admitted. “The courts are going to paint him as something that is unstable and a risk to society.”

“It really doesn’t help that the kill count is high, and the number of dysfunctional units is everyone.” Pam said before pulling up fingers. “One went crazy and started killing a bunch of high-profile people. Killed a whole political campaign room even. Another purposely leaked oil in a river reserve, and many people got sick and died from the water pollution. One went crazy at a camp and stole a taser gun from a security officer and was going to use it before it got shot down. Hell, the very first incident happened decades ago when one model tried to electrocute that kid.”

Dean could feel the phantom pain from his old scar, but he tried to ignore it. Across from them, he saw Claire give a wide smile at Cas before her bottom lip started to tremble, and it didn’t take long for her eyes to start watering too. The teenager immediately jumped out of her seat and took off towards the bathrooms, leaving behind a startled and confused Cyborg. 

“Shit. I knew this was going to be too much for her.” Jody complained, starting to get out of own seat, but paused when Dean put a hand on her shoulder.

“Maybe I should talk to her?” He suggested. “I know how confusing it is to meet your Dad’s body with someone else in control.”

Jody looked like she wanted to argue with him before sighing. “It might get through to her better. I’ll just be a mom speech to her.” Dean smiled in gratitude of her permission and got up to follow Claire’s trail. 

“Claire, can I come in?” He called out from the other side of the ladies’ room door. “It’s me, Dean.”

A couple of minutes passed before he got a muffled reply. “What do you want?”

“I just want to talk to you, make sure that you’re feeling okay. You looked a little overwhelmed back there.” Dean sighed, leaning against the door. “Figured us Donor kids should stick together. No one else really seems to understand just how much you lose when you lose your parent to SynTech.”

It was quiet for a while before the door suddenly swung back—which did almost take Dean out since he was still pressed up against it—and Claire’s red, blotchy eyes met Dean’s. “Fine, but if you get too sentimental, I’m kicking you out.”

“That’s fair,” Dean agreed, straightening himself up before following Claire into the room. He wish they didn’t have to have their talk in a bathroom stall where there wasn’t any real place to— “Wait, you guys have a couch in here? That’s both cool and unfair.”

Clair shrugs before taking a seat on the couch. “Some of the bigger women’s bathrooms just have them. You learn not to question them.”

Dean carefully sat next to her, and realized this couch was more comfortable than some of the couches in the lounge. Really not fair.

“So, what makes you think you actually know how I’m feeling.” Claire demanded. “Is it just because we’re ‘kindred spirits?’”

“Because I saw the Cyborg controlling my Dad’s body too. It was an M16K13L program, and unlike Cas it was an _it_. Everything about it was inhuman; the way it moved its Vessel, the way it stared through things, the way its face was blank. I didn’t even know that the software could recognize their Host’s family. I remember how confusing it was to be excited to see that familiar face again, but then the overwhelming horror of realizing that something else was behind the wheel. It’s one of the reasons why the government tries to keep Cyborgs far away from their Vessel’s family, so that they don’t get the chance to run into them and see just how wrong it is.”

“How did you meet your Dad’s Cyborg then?”

“Accident. My Dad died when I was 16,” Dean felt the phantom pains again, but he ignored them. “And when I was eighteen, I was pretty angry and didn’t really want to be around anyone or do anything with my life. My foster parents suggested I take a year off and travel the countryside, see the beauty of the world and all that other philosophical bullshit. They even backed me up financially for the first month. It ended up being just what I needed. Then the car accident happened.

About five months into my journey, my car got slammed by a truck whose driver had fallen asleep at the wheel. He slammed right into my passenger side and pushed me into a guardrail. Thankfully no one was riding with me because they would have been dead from impact. I was banged up pretty bad, but the more concerning problem was that all of my doors had been crushed in and there was no way to get me out. That’s why the police of Jericho had to send in their Cyborg.”

“And they ended up sending your father?” Claire guessed.

“Yeah. I was a little out of it because of the accident, so when I saw him I was convinced it was the _real_ him, and I started blubbering about how happy I was to see him, how much I missed him, and how I was so sorry about everything. And all it did was stare, even as I was being pulled away on the gurney. I had nightmares for months about that stare, and how it felt like someone had dug up my dad’s body and just had it out for display.”

“But it’s not like that with, Cas.” Claire admitted. “Are you telling me that I got the better deal?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure if you did. At least for me, I knew that my Dad was dead now, that he was… he was just a corpse being held together by advanced technology. Cas could very well be your dad because he’s so human.”

“But he’s really not,” Claire said looking down. “He looks like him, but he isn’t him. Cas is… too much of an awkward doof, and that has nothing to do with him being a Cyborg. Honestly, it felt more like meeting my Dad’s secret twin brother then meeting… you know someone wearing him. I only started crying because… because…”

“You wished it was him. I’m sorry, Claire, I really am. Honestly, when you recognized each other, I really hoped that you were what the other was looking for. He’s looking for his family too, you know?”

“Yeah, he mentioned that and how he thinks he found them.” Claire said dismissively, then looked at Dean weird when he stiffened and almost stopped breathing. “What?”

“He found his family? When? Why didn’t he say something?”

Claire shrugged. “He just said that he thinks he found them, but he’s a little afraid to reach out and tell them. He said more time had passed than he realized, and he didn’t think he would be welcomed by them anymore.”

“So he… so it’s really not your dad’s influence that makes him feel? I was sure that it was the Vessel not the A.N.G.E.L. software this whole time that was making Cas, well, Cas.”

“He really is something else,” Claire agreed, rubbing her face before getting off the couch. “Come on, I’m done being a ‘girl crying in the bathroom’ cliché, and I don’t feel like having Jody coming in here to talk more about feelings.”

“I got’cha. I gotta make sure Cas isn’t terrorizing anyone.” Dean teased.

He was surprised to see Pam sitting over by Cas, passing him over a piece of paper, and Cas looking at it like it was the most precious thing in the world. Then he looked up and saw Dean, and that look grew even fonder, making Dean’s face heat up. Cas seemed to love staring at him, and as much as Dean openly told Cas it was creepy, he couldn’t help but stare back at Cas just as frequently.

“You know, brotha,” Benny said, almost scaring the crap out of Dean when he came up to him. “I meant it when I said I wouldn’t judge ya. I know he’s part computer, but I’ve never seen anyone look at each other the way you two do.”

Claire laughed, and Dean awkwardly sidestepped the two of them. “You’re crazy.” Dean complained. 

“Maybe. But just know that whatever happens, we will be sticking by you. We won’t let them take Cas away.” Benny left the words ‘from you’ hanging in the air. 

“Thanks, Benny, I really mean it. I’ll talk to Sam tonight. Heck, I should probably give Bobby and Ellen the heads up as well, since they are his employers and will probably need to vouch for his human-ness.”

He turned to Cas and gestured for him to get ready, which he did eagerly, looking much calmer than he did when they first arrived. He had the sketch that Pam made clutch to his chest, and Dean looked at it quizzically. “What’s that?”

“Just something that helped me put together some missing pieces.” Cas vaguely explained, smiling down at the picture. “I’ll elaborate later, I promise.”


	7. It's Not Meant to Be

**It’s Not Meant to Be**

“You’re all a bunch of idjits!” Bobby bellowed once he heard the full story about Ash and Cas. “If you weren’t mountain size and I wasn’t in this chair, ya bet I would slap you both on the back of the head.” 

Dean expected as much from him but that didn’t mean that he didn’t still tense at the words. Poor Cas looked like he was moments away from walking dejectedly from the room, with his proverbial tail between his legs. Looking around, the other members of the family looked just as irate. Ellen was angrily scrubbing away at her dishes, banging pots and pans around just in case Dean forgot she was mad at him. Sam was seated at the table with him, head in his hands, shaking his head slowly as he was trying to process everything. Hell, even Jo through the computer screen seemed pretty irked, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she was playing with her pocket knife off screen.

“I know, I never should have gotten you involved—” Dean stopped his apology when Ellen banged her pot exceptionally loudly.

“That thinking is the reason why we are pissed, Dean! We’re angry because you didn’t involve us earlier. You should have said something the second you realized that Ash was missing, and that you might have stumbled into something big!”

“I didn’t know, okay! I didn’t even know Cas was a 3L until recently! At first, I just thought Cas was a basic labor Cyborg since he only had two number codes and he was shoddy looking. Hell, my original plan with Ash was that Cas had to be out of my house before I woke up in the morning. He wasn’t supposed to stay long, and I thought Ash had this handled.”

“And it didn’t set off any warning bells in your head when he didn’t come back? Didn’t you think we had the right to know that something might be off about his disappearance?” Bobby barked.

“Dammit, Dean, this whole time we have been hoping that he just took a random road trip, and praying he wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. Now you’re telling us there’s a possibility he was targeted or kidnapped? And still you were quiet!” Ellen snapped.

“It sounded crazy, even to me! I had no real proof, only speculation. At first, I thought Cas could help me find him, but he’s been just as clueless as me.”

Cas frowned looking down at his shoes. “I even tried reaching out to him on radio waves, but I’ve never got a reply and I was afraid of drawing too much attention to us.”

“Anyone else still shocked that Ash learned how to speak Cyborgian? Then again, he was always a bit of a machine himself.” Jo tried to joke but wasn’t very convincing.

“So, what, Dean,” Sam said, ignoring Jo. “Where you really just going to leave us in the dark the whole time? Ash is part of this family, we had the right to share in your speculations and fears. And we had the right to know the truth about Cas as well. I live with him and he works for Bobby and Ellen, for Christ’s sake!”

“You’ve barely known he’s a Cyborg for an hour and you are already treating him like an extension of my will. What right do I have to tell Cas’ secrets?” Dean demanded, and Sam blushed at that.

“I never actually lied to you,” Cas said softly. “I know that not telling the full story is lying by omission, but I really did try to be open and honest with you all. I didn’t talk about my past and who I was before because I didn’t want to think about it. Being here, being with all of you, has made me the happiest I have ever been.”

Cas looked down at the sketch paper, which he still had facing down on the table. “I used to have blips of happiness before. For a couple of months and for a couple of hours, I would have my family by side, but they always had to leave me in the end. When summer ended, I use to stay outside and count down to when I would see them again. It was always between 400,000 to 389,000 minutes until we would be reunited, and I lived for those moments.”

Sam looked up at Cas in surprise. “Your family... were they umm related to you?”

Cas shook his head and shifted nervously. “No, but they always said that ‘family don’t end in blood’ and I… I liked to think that they didn’t see me as a machine.”

Everyone in the kitchen tensed, even Jo stopped fidgeting with whatever it was she had in her hand and turned their eyes towards Bobby as his renowned words were repeated back to him. A speech Dean was sure Bobby didn’t have a chance to share with Cas yet. Dean turned to Sam to see if he might have told Cas that saying, only to be on the receiving end of Sam’s own quizzical look.

“Cas,” Sam said carefully, because someone had to ask, and Dean’s mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. “Do you know who your family is.”

Cas played with his finger, anxiously avoiding their eyes. “I remembered glimpses only for the longest times. After I got reset, Naomi and her team—that’s what Naomi specializes in, not research but in Cyborg re-education—had tried to erase all memories of my new family, since they were convinced it was the reason that I was becoming rebellious. But I couldn’t fully forget them and memories of them would slowly return, until I was reset again. My time with you has been the longest I’ve gone without being reset in…” He looks carefully at Sam and then Dean. “At least 20 years.”

“That’s not exactly answering the question.” Bobby pointed out.

“I.. I think I do,” Cas admittedly shyly, looking away from Dean. “I… You know why I came here, to this salvage yard in the first place?”

“Because Ash said your family was nearby and he could help you find them?” Dean said, remembering vaguely what Ash said.

“No. Ash said my family was here and he was going to bring them to me.” His hands started to shake again as he reached over to the table, picked up the sketch and handed it carefully over towards Bobby. Bobby looked at it in shock, and Dean was a little betrayed that the first person Cas showed that sketch to was not him. He would have demanded what was going on, but Cas beat him to it. “I… I honestly don’t know if I have words for this, but I think I remember another way to tell you guys.”

Hands still shaking, his hands looked like they were starting to seize in mid-air. Dean was concerned that something went wrong with his mechanical arms, especially since he been quaking like a scared kitten all day, but then he realized that the movements were too calculated and precise. He was speaking in sign language. Sam’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head as he quickly took in whatever Cas was signing. Dean was going to ask him to translate, but then he began to recognize the familiar motions of what used to be his favorite ASL sign. 

Cas raised his right hand, fingers pressed close together and thumb resting near the index finger, he tapped the right side of his nose before rotating the hand so that it was covering the nose. As he did that he was slowly raising his left hand with its index finger raised and stopped around chest level. Removing the right hand from his nose, he lowered them over towards the left index finger, and hovered over it like a hat. Or rather like he was making a flower shadow puppet. Once they touched, he moved the right hand all the way to the side, separating the pinky so that all the fingers were no longer touching. Like petals drifting off into the wind.

_[Dandelion.]_

He then pointed towards his upper chest with his right index finger. _[I am]._ He then raised all of his finger and then curled the thumb in, making the number 4, and shook the hand away from his chest in a short flail _[Blue]._ Finally, he raised his index and middle finger together, and place his thumb between the two digits _[K]_.

Dean would recognize that name sign anywhere because he was the one that gave it. What it really meant was “I am Kala”.

Dean froze, his body refusing to cooperate with him. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry, or shout. He’d probably would have flipped over the table or broken some furniture if this was his own home, but this was Ellen’s and Bobby’s and he was frankly too terrified to even knock a clean napkin off their table without feeling Ellen’s rage. 

“Kala, but… how… I thought,” Sam was at his own lost of words. “I thought you grew tired of us, that you didn’t want to associate with humans anymore. That’s the reason you—” But Sam lost his nerve. 

Cas looked at him sadly, and how strange was it that once Cas was in a completely different body and gender, looking down at both Sam and Dean, when now Sam towered over them. “I never wanted to leave you two. You two were so special to me, and I never would have left willingly. I… honestly don’t remember what happened. The last thing I remember was Dean driving up, explaining how you two wouldn’t be there for the summer, and then…” Cas trailed off, blushing.

“And then you attacked me,” Dean hissed, slowly trembling in rage. 

How dare he pretend this whole time to not know who they were. How dare he think he deserved another chance with them, despite all the destruction he caused. How dare he look horrified now.

“Dean, you have to understand that’s not what—”

Outraged, Dean unbuttoned his cuffs so that he could roll up his sleeves to show off the eighteen-year-old scar, of the feminine handprint that had branded itself on his bicep when he was just a teen. “Look at it, Cas! This is what you did to me! You tried to kill me, not once but twice!” 

Dean was vibrating with anger and knew that if he didn’t get some fresh air now, he would probably break another chair to impale Cas with. He whirled around and stamped outside, ignoring the shouts and pleas of his family.

_Dean was sixteen when John Winchester broke routine and decided that he wasn’t going to take them for that summer. His excuse was he just had too many things to do, and that his most recent case was not something he could drop for the summer. Both of his sons were angry, but not because they were missing out on valuable Dad time. At this point, both boys had sadly realized that Bobby Singer was the better father-figure to them, and that their summers were always in dingy motels and with canned foods. The only thing that made the summers in Kansas worth something was Kala._

_“She’s not going to know that we aren’t coming this year.” Sam had realized with horror. “Dean, she might be waiting all summer and think we abandoned her!”_

_“Shit, you’re right,” Dean said, fretfully brushing his hand through his short hair. “Knowing her, she’d stay in one spot for hours, just standing there.”_

_“What are we going to do?”_

_Dean looked out their window, trying to think of some inspiration, when he noticed Bobby pulling in a new car for the Salvage Yard. “I got it, Sammy! We just need to drive down to Kansas, let her know that we can’t stay this summer and then we’ll head back. It shouldn’t take that long.”_

_“It’s like a 6-hour drive, Dean! They’ll know if we’ve been gone for a whole day. Plus, you know you aren’t allowed to drive more than an hour away by yourself.”_

_“Then we just got to make sure that nobody finds out. Tell Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen I’m having a sleepover at Garth’s this weekend. They’ll totally believe it, and I can hash it out with them to make sure they don’t trip us up.”_

_“Wait, I’m not going anymore?”_

_“You complained, so you get to stay here with Baby Jo.” Dean teased, even though ‘baby’ Jo was ten now, and only two years younger than Sam._

_“Fine, I wouldn’t want to be stuck with your driving for that long anyway. You’d get us killed or run over a cow or something.”_

_“Okay, now you really aren’t coming with me!”_

_It didn’t take too long for the boys to hash out the plan, and for Dean to convince his aunt and uncle that he was going to spend the weekend over his friend’s house. It helped that they already knew Garth and knew he was a good kid. Before he left for Kansas, he made sure to also gather up all the equipment they used for camping with John, as well as many non-perishable food items he could take without his parental figures knowing he was missing._

_“Be careful, Jerk.” Sam said, punching him lightly in the arm before giving him a big hug. “Remember, if you aren’t back by Sunday night, I’m telling Bobby and Ellen where you are.”_

_“Remember, Bitch: snitches get stitches.” Dean warned, tickling Sam as punishment for his threats. “I’ll be fine. Want me to pass on a message to Kala while I’m there?”_

_“Umm… Just tell her I’m really going to miss her.”_

_“Will do.”_

_The first hour of the ride was exciting from the adrenaline of knowing he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to do and driving further than he ever driven before. By the second hour he got a little lonely, missing the company of Sammy, who had always been his driving companion. The third hour made Dean go a little stir crazy, and only the sweet tunes of Led Zeppelin was preventing him from going insane. This phase lasted most of the ride and he only started to perk back up when the signs for Lebanon, Kansas started to poke up. By the time he pulled onto the exit, he was practically vibrating with excitement, thrilled to see his best friend again. It was a little strange driving on the back roads with the car instead of his bike, and it looked different this late at night, but he was eventually able to find a road that lead to the Weird Fences. Luckily, they had learned over the years that it didn’t matter which side of the Fence they were on, if they called for Kala she would quickly find them._

_Putting the car in park, he quickly leapt out of the car and bounded over towards the fence and gave a sharp whistle. “Kala! I’m back!”_

_As usual, it didn’t take long for Kala to appear but Dean missed her arrival as he was looking around. He and Sam had never actually caught Kala’s entrances and had many theories about what caused it; Sam thought she could teleport while Dean thought she had super speed like the real Kal-El. Kala, of course, refused to tell them how she did it._

_Kala’s eyes gleamed happily as she took in Dean, then they widened when she realized that his face almost came up to the six-foot-tall fence. “Yeah, I finally got that growth spurt. Betcha I tower over you now!” He bragged._

_Kala’s eyes narrow and soon she was vaulting over the fence, so she could be next to him. That was another loophole Sam had figured out—once they could communicate with Kala—they learned they couldn’t go over the Fence, but Kala could. She moved closer to Dean until they were nose-to-nose, or rather nose to throat._

_“Hah! I called it, I knew I was taller than you now!” He crowed. Kala rolled her eyes, a habit she had grown fond of, and stepped back so Dean could fully see her hands._

_[You might be taller than me, but I can still carry you around like a baby.]_

_Dean smirked. “Is that a threat, or are you just trying to impress me?”_

_[You are ridiculous.]_

_“But you love me.” He teased._

_[I do.] She signed at him then looked down, her arms twitching like she wanted to say something else but didn’t know how to ask. Finally, she decided on something and pulled up her right index finger and moved it side to side. Then she used her thumb and index finger to grab a strand of her hair. Finally, she took that hand and made a fist, having her thumb rest on her middle finger. [Where is Sammy?]_

_Dean frowned, remembering his purpose for being down here. “He’s not here. Actually, I’m not supposed to be here either. Dad cancelled on us so we’re spending the summer in Sioux Falls. Remember, we live with our Aunt and Uncle there during the school year? I snuck away so I could warn you that… you know, we aren’t coming down._

_For someone who couldn’t frown, Kala sure knew how to give miserable looks. [I see.]_

_“But we have a couple of days! I can keep you company tonight and the next, and then go home on Sunday morning! It’ll be like a camping trip. Umm that is if you want me around that long?”_

_Kala nodded her head so fast, Dean is pretty sure she would have broken a vertebra if it wasn’t reinforced with steel. [Yes, I want that!] She then began to make signs faster than Dean could follow, but then slowed down and rephrased. [I enjoy your company and I would appreciate having more of your time before you must go.]_

_“Awesome,” Dean said, smiling widely before bowing his head in embarrassment. “Though I think you are forgetting something.”_

_He kept his eyes on the ground until he felt a hand gently cup his cheek so that his gaze was meeting bright blue eyes. He could see the permission they were asking for and he smiled softly in acceptance. Soon that hand shifted from his face to his shoulder and he was engulfed into a warm hug. He didn’t know exactly when the tradition started, but the two of them always shared in a long hug the first time they saw each other again, and on the last day of summer. During those hugs there was no time limit for how long they could hold onto each other for, and it never felt awkward. In fact, Dean never felt safer than when he was in her arms, though it did feel different now that he was the taller of the pair._

_A couple of hours later, he and Kala were lounging around a fire and looking up into the night sky. “We should have done this before.” He said, not getting over just how peaceful it was out here._

_[You could never sneak out that long. Your dad would have gotten worried.]_

_“Right, like that would happen.” He muttered bitterly. When Sam was around he would do his best to give excuses for his father, but with Kala he faced the hard truth. Yeah in John’s own way, he loved them, but his sons weren’t his priority in life. Why else would he abandon them to their aunt and uncle for 9 months out of the year, not even stop by for holidays, and then bail on them for the only time they had together?_

_He appreciated that Kala didn’t point this out as well. [I am glad that you are here now.]_

_Dean smiled. “Me too.”_

_They eventually got onto the subject of what had happened since they saw each other last, Kala wasn’t able to say much about her super-secret duties, but she had been practicing her origami skills when she was alone and had gotten quite good at it. She even handed him an origami penguin as a gift, which she admitted that she had kept in her pocket for days, hoping that she’d run into him soon. In exchange, Dean told her about high school, about how awesome it was now that he could drive, and how he made it to the Wrestling Championships before finally losing. This led to Kala getting a wicked spark in her eye before she demonstrated to him some moves that would help him be undefeated the next year. It was during that time, with Dean flat on his back, breathless and looking up into Kala’s blue eyes, that he blurted it out._

_“Kala, I love you.”_

_She tilted her head, before giving him the familiar hand sign for love, but he shook his head. “No, Kala, I really love you. More than a friend.”_

_Kala stared at him blankly, before inching away from him. Panicked, Dean sat up and grabbed her wrist. “Please, don’t leave, forget I said anything!” He felt her jiggle her wrist and he quickly let go, not wanting to prevent her from talking._

_[Dean,] She used the name sign as green D. [You are a human, I am not. You are also young. You will find real love one day.]_

_“And what if I’m in love with you? I’ve never felt this way about anyone, Kala. You’re my best friend and I love being with you. I’m my happiest when I’m with you and I hate it when I’m not here.”_

_[I,] She paused before continuing to sign. [I miss you too, when you are gone. I do… wish you would stay here forever.]_

_“Then why don’t we do that. In two years, I’m an adult and I can do whatever I want. I can move down here, and we could be together always.”_

_Kala shook her head. [You are still too young. You need to go explore the world, find your place in it and I’m… I’ll be stuck here.] She seemed angry at that last part. [You are free to leave, and you should not take that freedom for granted.]_

_“Then what if I took you away from here,” He said, getting excited. “We could hit the road, just the two of us and run away together!”_

_[You would never be able to leave Sammy behind.]_

_“He can visit.”_

_[Humans are supposed to have a stable job and income.]_

_“I’ll bounty hunt like Dad and you technically don’t need to eat much.”_

_[You need to have this more planned out.]_

_“I have two years to plan it.”_

_[Longer. Real adulthood in all corners of the law is not achieved until you are 25]_

_“19.”_

_[25.]_

_“21. Hey, if I’m old enough to drink, gamble and go to war, I should be old enough to run away with my Cyborg.”_

_[If you don’t change your mind.] She cautioned but didn’t argue further._

_“Trust me, I won’t,” He looked around until he found a dandelion nearby and plucked it up. Carefully, he knotted the stem until he made a little makeshift ring and offered it to the Cyborg. “I, Dean Winchester, vow that someday I will spend the rest of my life with you, Kala.”_

_[You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.] She warned again, but looked longingly at the flower, and didn’t stop Dean when he took her hand to slip the ring flower over her finger._

_“Then I guess I’m just going to have to keep it then.” Dean said, smiling wide._

_Kala watched him fondly, before pulling her face close to his and resting their foreheads together. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, just enjoying the other’s presence, until Dean started to drift asleep. Kala tried to remove herself from him, but Dean was a clingy octopus and wouldn’t let her go, so instead she eased them into a laying down position. That night he slept curled around his favorite person, and despite sleeping on the cold ground, it was the best night sleep he ever had._

_Of course, something had to go wrong._

_Dean had romanticized waking up that morning to the sun rising, watching the light cast reflections off of Kala’s face, and with their limbs tangled together. He didn’t expect to wake up to the smell of something burning and a high pitched screech that sounded like nails on a chalkboard. He jolted awake to discover that Kala was no longer laying beside him, but was instead crouched in front of him, like a lioness protecting her cub from an unknown threat._

_He wanted to ask her what was going on, but he was afraid to make a sound. Anything that freaked Kala out was bound to be bad news. He quickly got to his feet and got into his own defensive stance. He didn’t waste time asking Kala what was going on, because he knew she wouldn’t turn around to reply without making themselves both vulnerable. He waited anxiously for something to happen but wasn’t prepared for when it did. One minute he was surveying the area; the next he was flat on his back, feeling like he just got by a car, and with the taste of blood in his mouth. He heard an awful screech that sounded like it came from Kala and then she was just gone! One minute she was in front of him, and the next she vanished. Or rather she was moving too fast for his eyes to keep up._

_Gingerly he sat up and tried not to cry as he did; why did his whole abdomen feel like it was on fire? There was no way he didn’t have a broken set of ribs. He tried to catch glimpses of Kala, only figuring out where she might be by the sound of loud crashing of metal on metal, and the short bursts of blue light. For the most part, Kala was keeping whatever that thing was away from Dean, but every now and then the thing would slip past Kala and Dean would find himself back on the ground with a new dent in his body. At one point his invisible assailant viciously slammed his head on the ground with so much force that he saw stars behind his lids. He saw it in front of his eyelids too as he was met face to face with an unfamiliar blaster gun; crackling with white, hot electricity. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the attack, but instead heard another crash as his assailant was once again tackled away by Kala. Opening his eyes, he could see Kala, only that wasn’t good. His Cyborg was starting to slow down, her movements becoming sluggish, and her breathing for once was erratic. Whatever she was doing was taking a toll on her body, and Dean realized with horror that she probably should have gotten recharged the previous night but didn’t because she was with him. The two friends both froze though when they heard the loud crackle of electricity, like the sound of lightning about to strike. Before Dean realized what was happening; he was being yanked up by his bicep and being shoved away, but Kala wasn’t as fast as usual, and though she got Dean out of the danger zone that she saw him in, she was now the one in its place._

_He heard a loud BANG like thunder and suddenly the arm Kala was gripping tight was burning like it was on fire; he could even smell his flesh burning and was uncomfortably reminded of the smell of barbecuing meat. He screamed loudly in pain and horror before his pain senses went into overload and his vision started fading._

_He fell and hit a hard surface, but he wasn’t sure if it was the ground or if Kala’s metal arms were gripping him upright. He thought, though, that he could dimly make out the voice of another human screaming._

_“Stop! Desist!” A woman shouted. “UR13L and C45T13L stand down!”_

_Dean tried to open his eyes, but all he saw was red._


	8. All Your Fault

**All Your Fault**

_Dean woke up to an obnoxious beeping sound. Beep…beep… beep… beep... it kept clamoring, and Dean really wished that someone would turn it off because it was hurting his head. In fact, every part of his body hurt. It felt like he tried to get into a wrestling match with Bobby’s tow truck and lost badly. Seriously, why wasn’t anyone turning that stupid alarm off? Was it his own? Grumbling angrily, he tried to blindly reach out for the alarm to turn it off, but gasped when every muscle and nerve in his arm screamed in protest. What the hell happened to him? Even opening his eyes felt like an Olympic sport with the amount of work he had to put into accomplishing that. When he did finally open them, he was blinded by white light. It took him a couple of blinks, before he realized that all the whiteness was because the walls, floors, sheets on his bed, and even the chair in the strange room he was in were the same bleached white color. This was not his room nor one he ever saw before._

_“I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore.” He whispered to himself, mostly just to make sure he still had a voice._

_“Actually, you are still in Kansas. Lebanon to be specific.” A woman said near his side, scaring the crap out of him. The beep beep alarm even sped up._

_“I’m sorry,” The woman said again, this time stepping into his view. For a moment he thought she was Kala, until he realized that the woman had hazel eyes, not blue. She also had short, perfectly styled hair—Kala could never keep her hair looking neat for long. It always got wind blown or ruined by her running her hand through it—and was wearing bright white scrubs. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you were waking up before because you heard me.”_

_“Nurse?” He guessed. “Where am I? What am I doing here?”_

_“You’re at the Memorial Hospital. You’ve been with us for over a week now, but we had you in a medical coma.”_

_“What?!” Dean looked down and saw that his arms were connected to different machines and had various tubes running down his body. He also realized the annoying alarm was his own heartbeat on a monitor, and right now it was beating fast._

_“Shhh. Try to calm down, Dean. The more upset and stressed you get, the worse you’ll feel. Also, a medical coma is a tactic doctors use for patients in critical condition. Pretty much, we force your body to stay asleep and heal what is wrong with you and prevent it from registering further pain. Think of it like… patching a hole up with duct tape. It’ll hold things together until you got the proper tools to fix the issue.”_

_“Okay, I get that, but does that mean I’m better now that I’m awake?”_

_“Your body still has a lot of healing to do; you were beaten up pretty bad, have some broken ribs, a concussion, and you were zapped by some pretty high voltage which also left some bad burns on you. Honestly, it’s amazing you weren’t in worse condition when you arrived.”_

_“How did I get here?”_

_“Dr. Milton of SynTech labs caught you on their property,” The nurse tsked disapprovingly. “You must have gotten too close to the security line and set off one of their security bots. SynTech has already put up warning signs so no one else gets that close.”_

_Dean realized something. “Hey, nurse? If I’ve been here for a week does that mean my family…”_

_“Your guardians and your father were alerted right away. Your uncle was here the first couple of days to watch over you, and then your father came up to take over. Your father recently left to fill out some medical paperwork and cost options.”_

_Dean’s stomach sank at the word cost. One thing he knew from the medical dramas his Aunt likes to watch—that he did not enjoy at all—was that hospitals were expensive, and Dean doubted that any of his parental figures could afford something as major as medical comas._

_“Don’t worry, kid,” The Nurse said, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. From this position he could see her ID badge and read that her name was Tessa. “Your Dad’s got it all covered.”_

_That was even more worrisome. John Winchester never had anything covered, even at 8-years-old it was Dean’s responsibility to make sure they had enough money to pay their motel rent, and that they had enough food to last a week in case John couldn’t get back to them in time. He never thought ahead to account for the worse case scenario, because he was always convinced that he would be there for his family before things got too bad. But it never worked out like that._

_Tessa went back to looking over Dean and checking his charts. “Okay, you seem to be on trajectory for what we would expect. I’ll just take this record over to your doctor and he should be over to see you personally soon.” She smiled at him before moving on, leaving Dean alone with only the sound of the machines and his thoughts._

_He tried to piece together everything that happened, although there were many holes in his memory one thing was certain, and that was that Kala had protected him and got injured doing so. He knew that she was literally made from stronger stuff than he was, but he’d never seen her look that worn down, and that was before she took that direct blast. Dean knew he had to see her again, to make sure that she was okay, but he didn’t know how. He wasn’t dumb enough to think that he could just leave the hospital and walk the couple of miles until he saw the Fences. Even he could admit that his body was too battered to pull that off. That meant that he would need someone to drive him over towards that area, but he would need a good excuse for why he would need to go back._

_Three days later, he had just the excuse, as he stealthily tried to grip the inside door handle of his dad’s truck. If his dad had any idea that he was still in pain, he’d not only be banned from going on this little adventure, but he would be stuck back at the hospital. His dad, at least, didn’t seem to notice, but then again, he was too busy growling at Dean over how irresponsible and stupid he was for even getting himself into such a position. Considering how vehement he was about it all, Dean assumed that the medical staff had ordered John not to say or do anything to stress Dean out, so he had to wait until they were off hospital property before he was able to rip into his son._

_“What the hell were you even thinking? Driving all the way here from fucking South Dakota? That’s a six-hour drive, and I know Bobby and Ellen would never let you go that far. Hell, they thought you were at Bart’s house until the hospital called.”_

_Dean wanted to point out that his friend’s name was Garth, but he knew he shouldn’t add fuel to the flames._

_“You shouldn’t even be getting this damn car back. In fact, once we get this thing loaded up and delivered back to Bobby’s, I’m telling him to sell it. Though I doubt any money he’d get from that would even make a dent in the amount of money that hospital bill racked up.”_

_Dean flinched. “I’m sorry. Would it help a little? Do you need me to get an extra summer job to pay off some of the cost?”_

_“Even that wouldn’t make a lick of difference,” John growled before sighing. “Look, what’s done is done. I already made payment arrangements with the hospital and there’s no changing that now.”_

_“How much is it going to cost?” Dean asked hesitantly._

_“More than you could ever afford and lets just leave it at that.” John said, before changing the subject. “How much further until we reach your car?”_

_“Maybe another mile? I’m starting to recognize the area.” Dean said helpfully._

_The only way Dean could think of to get back to Kala was to get his dad to drive back to where he had left his car. At first, John wanted to leave it behind as punishment, until Dean pointed out that the car technically belonged to Bobby, and if Dean wasn’t allowed it anymore then it would technically belong Bobby, who had paid for and help restore the 14-year-old Chevette._

_It didn’t take too long for them to reach the spot. “Tell me it was that shitty looking when you got it.”_

_“No, sir, it was actually worse,” Dean said with a laugh, immediately wincing at the sharp pain it caused his poor ribs. “The last owner had no depth perception and seemed to think dents and scratched paint were a necessary part of the car. Bobby and I are going to fix it up and completely detail it by the end of the summer. At least we were.” Man, even though the Chevette was ugly—though he might be biased since it could never match the Impala—he still loved the thing and he was looking forward to making it look good. Afterall, he had only needed something for the next couple of years until he could inherit the Impala for himself, even if John had retired her in favor of his pickup truck the previous year._

_“Maybe this will teach you a lesson to not do dumb shit,” John huffed. “Let’s get this over with. Stay in here, and don’t do anything stupid.”_

_“I’ll do my best, sir.” Dean smirked. John just mumbled under his breath about how he didn’t raise such a smart aleck._

_Dean chose not to respond, but instead listened and waited for John to rifle through his gear and grab the chain and bungee cords he needed to do a MacGyver tow for the Chevette. He waited until he heard the clatter of the chains being hooked around the sedan before slowly sneaking out of the pickup, sure that his dad would not notice what was going on over the sound of his own grumbling and cursing. Even though his body ached, he did his best to scurry over to the Fence, whispering Kala’s name as a prayer with every step he took. By the time he got to his destination, he let out a loud whistle and shouted out Kala’s name. He heard nothing at first, and then—_

_BEEP… BEEP… BEEP!_

_Dean’s eyes popped open and he tried to jolt to an upright motion, not knowing why he was on his back, but he was held down by human hands. Everything felt like it was on fire, and it was too much. He tried to scream in pain, but no noise came out, and his throat felt like it had been scraped raw. He tried to struggle against his living restraints, but they only gripped him tighter, and then… then he felt a prick in his arm. The fire slowly ebbed into a nice warmth that was blanketing both his body and his mind, and he slowly drifted back to sleep._

_He woke up later to the sounds of shouting and a door being slammed shut. He slowly opened his eyes and saw an irate John Winchester, angrier than Dean ever saw before._

_“What the fuck were you thinking?” John said slowly, like he was fighting the urge to strangle Dean right then and there._

_“I had to… check on her.” Dean slurred, too tired to lie._

_“Who?” John demanded._

_“Kala. My friend.”_

_“Why the hell were you talking to that Cyborg? Couldn’t you tell that thing was a First Tier 3L? Don’t you know better than to bother those things, especially on private property. Private property where you already were caught trespassing!”_

_“She’s not a Cyborg. She’s my best friend,” Dean said with a yawn. “More than that. I love her.”_

_“What. Did. You. Say?” John growled out slowly._

_Normally, Dean would be afraid of his Dad’s tone and the way he was tensed up, like a cougar ready to attack, but he was too tired and floaty to care. “I said I love her.” Dean said, like it was the simplest thing in the world._

_“That thing is a Cyborg,” John spat out vehemently. “Do you even realize what that is? It’s nothing but a corpse running on computer software to make it look animated! How can you be so stupid?”_

_“I’m not stupid,” Dean said, slowly losing the warm bliss he was feeling before. “I’ve known her for seven years and even learned sign language so I can talk with her. I know her, and I know what I feel is real!”_

_“What you feel is wrong and disgusting,” John hissed, his own revulsion clear on his face. “And sign language? You can teach fucking apes to sign, that doesn’t mean you can try to fuck them either.”_

_Dean’s face flushed red with embarrassment and anger. “That’s not it at all! I like being around Kala, I can tell her anything, and I feel happy and safe around her.”_

_“Safe? Safe! That creature is the reason you’re back in this hospital bed!”_

_Dean’s eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head, refusing to believe what his Dad said. “No, you don’t get it. She was trying to protect me before. There was another Cyborg that attacked us. I didn’t see them but—”_

_“Female body? Messy, black hair? Crazy blue eyes? Yeah, I saw it, and that was the one that attacked you. Recently.” John huffed. “I was dealing with your piece of junk when I heard you yammering like a fool, loud enough to wake the dead. Then I look over to see you talking with that thing. You didn’t even care that it was pointing a military grade energy gun at your face! And you know what it did next?”_

_Dean shook his head, not daring to believe anything._

_“It set off this bright light and the next thing I know, everything in a 10-yard span was decimated, and you were on the ground, 50 yards from where you were before, convulsing and bleeding from your mouth.”_

_“No…” Dean said, slowly trembling._

_“You’re lucky you aren’t dead. Hell, you’re lucky they didn’t even have to put you into another coma. Whatever you think about that thing, you are wrong. It tried to kill you once and failed, so it tried a second time to finish it.”_

_“No! It doesn’t make sense. I’ve known Kala for seven years! Why would she hurt me now?”_

_“Because you weren’t sixteen before.” John said, calmer than anything else he uttered._

_“What?”_

_“Sixteen is the age where you can legally be a Donor. You have the M16K43L gene just like I do, and like my father before me, and his father and so on. It’s a rare gene for an incredibly powerful 3L model, and SynTech would do almost anything to get their hands on one of those bodies.”_

_“I don’t—”_

_“You know what happens if you get killed on SynTech land? Since they are a military affiliate research facility, it’s technically seen as a breach of national security, and they have the right to subdue you in anyway they see necessary. And if a Cyborg compatible recipient dies on their land, they have the right to claim their body, even if they aren’t a Donor. But they can’t do that unless you are sixteen, and not because they care about the young but because those under sixteen don’t have the brain waves or higher brain function to support their software.”_

_Dean always wondered why the Fences weren’t that high or covered in barbed or electrical wire. It always looked like the owners were daring people to hop the fence and investigate the other side, and now he realized how true it was. How many people were killed doing that? How many of them did Kala kill? Did she only leave him and Sammy alone because they were too young?_

_“How is that even legal?” Dean asked instead._

_“It’s not,” John laughed. “But no one, not even the President himself is ballsy enough to look into their practices, and they depend on them too much. Do you know how much revenue the government makes off the free labor the lower models provide, or from the warfare the 3Ls and their weapons can rage? Thanks to SynTech, the country is richer than ever, and other countries are too afraid to even look at us without fear. Like it or not, SynTech already owns us all.”_

_“I mean, even look at this hospital,” John continues. “Do you know that most of the people who can afford medical care are either the rich or Donors and their families? If you’re neither than they leave you to die. What do you think happened to Ellen’s and Bobby’s original spouses? None of them had Donor blood, so they weren’t worth saving. Hell, they wouldn’t even save your mother because I wasn’t a registered Donor at the time. Ironic considering how it was SynTech gear that killed her.”_

_Dean stiffened. “Mom? But… but she was shot by a robber?”_

_“A robber who had illegal SynTech gear. One blast from his gun was enough to fry her from the inside out,” Dean felt bile start to build up in the back of his throat. “The worst part was he didn’t even finish her off. She was still alive when I found her. I even got her to the hospital, but they refused her treatment because it was an expensive and delicate procedure and I wasn’t a Donor. By the time I was a quarter of the way through the paperwork, she died.”_

_Dean had to put a hand to his mouth to choke down the bile, as he tried not to think about his mom in so much pain and no one even trying to help her. “How am I even here then?”_

_“I actually had time to fill out the paperwork for you.”_

_“You hate the idea of Donors and Vessels,” Dean said shocked. “Why would you—”_

_“First, you’re my kid, and you’re Mary’s son. I’m not letting my flesh and blood die if I can save you. Secondly, I might hate the idea of it, but life’s shit and I have to do things I’m not happy about. If I can stomach working with SynTech, I can stomach knowing what they’ll do to me before my body has the chance to go cold.”_

_Dean wasn’t sure how many more surprises he can take. “You work for SynTech?”_

_“Who do you think pays my checks? I hunt down people who have unauthorized SynTech property. Whether it be weapons, computers, or Cyborgs.”_

_“Cyborgs?”_

_“Every now and then you get a glitch in their program that makes them want to run and hide somewhere familiar. Those are easier because you just hunt them down and ship them back to SynTech to dismantle. The worse are when humans take Cyborgs, for whatever reason.”_

_Dean realized he was talking about Kala, and he remembered his plans to run away with her. “What happens to them?”_

_“Let’s just say that both them and the ‘bots disappear and leave it at that.” Dean swallowed. “Not that I have to worry. I know I didn’t raise you dumb enough to go after something that tried to kill you twice.”_

_Dean still couldn’t believe that._

_“You didn’t raise me,” He said instead, his tongue still loose from the warm feeling he had earlier._

_“What did you say, boy?”_

_“I said, Sir,” He said sardonically. “You. Didn’t. Raise. Me. Mom was the one raising us, you were barely home, and when you were home you were usually asleep on the couch.”_

_“I was working hard to support the three of you!”_

_“And then she dies, and you go poof!” Dean yelled. “You left us alone in dingey motels, barely left us with enough food or money to buy more. I was only fucking eight, Dad, and you were leaving me alone to take care of myself and a toddler!”_

_“I was doing my best!”_

_“No, you checked out when Mom died, and you refused to take responsibility for anything! Hell, you made me feel like shit for years because you didn’t check to make sure that the food you left us behind wasn’t expired, and we got so sick from eating it. We were both puking our guts out in school the next day. And you know what happened? The school nurse had to call home, only to find out that you had been gone all week! That’s why social services almost took us away, not because I was a ‘crybaby who couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut’! You know what? Fuck you!” Dean screamed. “I wouldn’t even be in this mess if you had actually stuck around for the summers like you promised.”_

_John was so angry, he was panting. “You will not speak to your father this way!”_

_“Don’t worry, I would never do that to Bobby.” Dean said with a spiteful smirk._

_John opened his mouth to undoubtedly start shouting again, but instead of words a strangled gasp came out of his throat, as he began to frantically claw at his chest. Within a split second he went from standing up to convulsing on the floor._

_“Dad? Dad! I need some help in here! Anybody!”_

_Dean refused to talk to anyone until after they collected the body, and the family had a small funeral service, and the only thing he requested was to see a picture of where he was found before that last hospital trip. His dad hadn’t lied, the whole area looked like a bomb had gone off. Whatever Kala had done; it wasn’t a warning shot. She had aimed to kill._

_If Dean hadn’t tried to argue on her behalf, they wouldn’t have gotten into so many petty arguments. Dean wouldn’t have aggravated him so much and wouldn’t have raised his blood pressure so high. John Winchester wouldn’t have gone into cardiac arrest._

_If Dean hadn’t gone to see Kala, he wouldn’t have gotten injured twice, and his Dad wouldn’t have been so stressed out. His father wouldn’t have had to become a Donor._

_Because of Kala, his Dad would never be buried next to his Mom like they both had wanted._

_Because of Kala, his Dad was dead._

_Because of Kala, he swore he would never willingly go near another Cyborg again._

Because Cas was Kala, he had easily let down his guard and let him… her? It—no them—too close. Dean even let himself be pulled towards them like he did when he was a stupid teenager. But he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

He wasn’t cruel enough to abandon Cas; despite their past, the Cyborg didn’t deserve to be destroyed by SynTech. Dean still helped Sammy out on building a case for Cas to be declared legally human, he still let Cas live with them, and he still took meals with them. However, he wasn’t dumb enough to let himself be caught alone with the Cyborg again. He wouldn’t avoid Cas, but he would make sure there was always one other person in the room, and that he didn’t have to talk directly to Cas, but instead addressed them with the group. Cas and his family noticed, but Dean wouldn’t let any of them try to stop him. Cas didn’t try to push him, but they had started to make more cranes with an obsessive passion, never having their hands empty for long. 

Not wanting to be home as much, Dean found himself heading to the Roadhouse for drinks more frequently; at first going out sporadically to grab a beer with Benny, and then he continued to go during a certain bartender’s shift. Ellen had found a replacement for Zeke a while back; a beautiful and intimidating woman named Mikaela. She had dark hair, dark eyes, lovely caramel skin, and sexiest of all was her mind and wit. She used to be a biochemist at the Sioux Falls Institute of Biomedicine, where she was working on a corticosteroid that would be safer and more effective to use regularly; when SynTech bought them out as well as many of the other surrounding labs, and thus she was out of a job. Because of them, she was having a hard time finding another job in her field and had to go back to bartending like she did in her college days. Dean’s favorite past time with Mikaela was bitching about how much SynTech sucked and how evil they were. He also liked the fact that she was also a Western fan, she loved Vonnegut, she played guitar, she enjoyed watching Dr. Sexy, and most importantly she thought Baby was sexy and even knew a thing or two about muscle cars. Honestly, she was his dream woman, and to his shock, she was interested in him.

Dean really should have been all for it. She was gorgeous and intelligent—which despite how much Sam liked to tease him for being a horn dog, all his serious girlfriends were both beauty and brains—just Dean’s type. But he always felt like he was cheating when he was with her. Mikaela, however, took his hesitancy for shyness and the last time he saw her, she handed him her number with a coy smile, and told him to call her when he wanted to take that leap and finally take her on a date. Dean had smiled back and agreed, pocketing her number but left the bar before night even had the chance to fall. Which is probably why Sam decided to pounce on him when he got back home.

“We need to talk.” Sam said seriously from his seat, closing his laptop.

Dean put up his hands in mock surrender. “I swear, Dad, I drank responsibly, and didn’t even drink and drive.”

“Come on, I’m being serious.”

“Okay, fine,” Dean looked around and noticed he couldn’t find their other roommate, which was strange since they were lately glued to Sam. “Where’s Cas?”

“He’s umm resting,” Sam said pointing up towards the bedroom instead of towards the garage like they would have if they were charging. Then again, Dean would have noticed them when he parked. “That’s actually why I want to talk to you, but can we do it in the basement?”

Where it was hard for even the Cyborg to hear through. “Okay. What’s going on?”

Sam shook his head and just pointed towards the basement again before heading down there himself. Curious, Dean followed. “What’s this about?”

“I found a place,” Sam started to explain, which made Dean even more confused. Yeah, he loved having Sam back home with him, but they always knew it was a temporary thing, and he knew their days as roommates were numbered once Sam got the position three weeks ago at the DA’s office to work under the public defender Ms. Mara Daniels—after having turned down the job offer from SynTech yet again. “It’s a really nice twin home for rent. About a 10-minute drive from here. Even has the option for rent-to-own so if I end up really liking it, I can just buy it.”

“That’s awesome, Sammy. Though… uh why the secrecy?”

“Because that’s not what I really wanted to talk about. I want to take Cas with me.”

“What?” For some reason, it felt like Sam had just punched him in the stomach.

“I want Cas to come with me,” Sam looked at Dean and rubbed his head. “It’s not healthy what is going on between you two. Ever since you found out Cas was… is Kala, you’ve been keeping him at arm’s length away while pretending that everything is okay, and it’s been causing a strain for all of us.”

“Well what am I supposed to do then? Just forgive them after everything that’s happened?”

“That’s the first thing, Dean, none of us know what happened! Even Cas is clueless as to why you suddenly hate him. Secondly, why are you suddenly calling Cas a them? If you actually talked to him recently, you’d know he identifies as male now.” Sam ran his fingers through his hair, the way he always did when he was irritated and trying to figure out how to phrase his next sentence without starting a fight. “Have you noticed that he’s been compulsively working on his origami cranes?”

“Yeah?” Dean raised his brow. “What about it?”

“You know what he told me, when I asked him why he was obsessed with making them?” Dean shook his head. “He said he had to get to a thousand cranes, so that his new wish could come true. So that you would be able to look at him again without hating him.”

“Sam—” Dean started to say but shook his head, not even sure how to explain it.

“Do you know why he has a different Vessel?” Sam asked him curiously. “We know Vessels can last centuries, but he changed his in the past twenty years. Ever wonder why?”

Dean shrugged. “They—I mean he injured it during battle? He did say he was a Soldier.”

“Dean, he detonated himself when he was Kala.” 

“What?” Dean could swear he felt his heart stop beating.

“Whatever happened after he reunited with you that summer is a big blur. He remembers trying to protect you from another Cyborg who was ‘unnecessarily aggressive’, and then waking up to something called retraining. Apparently, he broke a lot of rules by trying to keep you safe, and one of those punishments is losing most of his motor control for a week and being run by one of the SynTech employees until they could ‘update’ his programming. The next time he really woke up was with the feeling that something was wrong and that someone kept activating his guns. He also thought he saw hundreds of copies of you, but he wasn’t sure if he was glitching. All he knew was that something was wrong with him and that if you were around then he could accidentally kill you. So, instead he took himself out of the game. Use his own blasters right to his chest at full power.”

“Jesus, how did they survive that?” 

“Technically, the Vessel didn’t, but apparently 3L hardware chips are made to withstand even explosions. Guess it makes sense since they are military grade. SynTech was not happy with what he did, and he’s honestly not sure why they even bothered to save him, but he must be important. That or…” Sam trailed off.

“Or?”

“Or they are using him as an experiment. To see how much he can integrate himself into human society without being discovered.”

Considering his family and their customers didn’t notice, he’d say Cas was doing well on that front.

“But my point is that whatever issue you think you might have with Kala, might not be as bad as you think. He never abandoned us, Dean,” Maybe he didn’t try to kill him either. “You need to deal with whatever it is you are going through and actually talk to him. And if you don’t… I’m sorry, Dean, but I can’t in good conscience leave you two alone together.”

“So, what? If I don’t do what you want, you’ll take away my toy?” Dean realized he made a mistake the second he uttered the phrase, even before Sam turned to him in righteous fury.

“You know what? Maybe you should have spent the night drinking after all. At least then there would be an excuse for why you are such a dick.” Sam snarled before kicking him out of his room. 

Not wanting to spend the night with one pissed off roommate and one he was trying to avoid; Dean went to the one place where he knew he could calm down. The Salvage Yard. For the next hour he busied himself by burying himself into the engine of the crappiest car he could find—in this case an unloved Volkswagen beetle—and trying desperately not to wonder if Cas’s mechanics worked anything like a car. He wasn’t expecting a blinding flash of light to hit him in the face.

“Jesus!” Dean cursed.

“Far from it, though I wouldn’t mind the ability to turn water into wine. And of course, healing the cripple.” Bobby snarked, slowly rolling his way closer.

“What are you doing out here so late?” Dean stopped himself from saying it wasn’t safe for him to be this far out in a wheelchair in the pitch black. That was an easy way for him to get rolled over by Bobby. 

“Sam called. Said ya two got into a bit of a tiffle and got worried you’d do something stupid. Figured this was a good place to start the search. Good to know you haven’t changed some of your habits.”

“I’ve kept enough of my bad ones. I still don’t know when to keep my mouth shut.”

“That might take a miracle, son.” Dean couldn’t help but laugh in agreement. “Now I can see this going two ways. Either we’re going to awkwardly linger here in silence while you work on that Junker until you can no longer see your own fingers, or you’ll be smart, and we can go back to the house and you can tell me what’s bothering you over a glass of Jameson.”

Dean decided to be smart for once and followed Bobby back but was unable to phrase what he wanted to say. Luckily, Bobby beat him to it.

“You know, Ellen and I were both scared that first summer we had to give you two back to your dad. After everything that had happened, we weren’t sure we could trust John to put you two first. Ellen used to have this mantra she would say every night you were gone: ‘please don’t let those boys get hurt. Let them come back to us safe and happy’. We almost couldn’t believe it when you boys returned with big smiles on your faces and tales of a friend you made. Over the years we realized that it was your friend that was making your summers so enjoyable. From there, it wasn’t a surprise when you developed your first crush on her.”

Bobby snickered. “We used to call her your summer flame, and when we realized you ran away we knew that it was to see her. But then… well, then everything went to hell for you, and we knew that whatever happened to you in Kansas, it had also destroyed the thing you had with your flame.” Bobby frowned. “I would have given anything for you to have that summer smile back on your face. Ellen even said that if you ever found a woman that could make you smile like that again, then you better marry her. Neither one of us were expecting that it would be directed at a man.”

Dean felt panic well up inside him and opened his mouth to start denying everything, but Bobby quickly shushed him. “Let me speak, knucklehead. When we saw that smile back, we didn’t care what gender he was. All that we cared about was making sure that you were loved, and you were happy. Hell, the fact that he meshed so well with our family only made it better.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably. “He’s a Cyborg.”

“He’s human where it counts with some extra upgrades. If I could afford the reconstructive surgery to have fixed my legs would I be less human to you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then I don’t see why it matters so much to you,” Bobby sighs. “Look, I know how to count, and I can put two and two together and figure out that Cas is your summer flame. Different package, same gift. And I know that since you two found out, you’ve been acting funny and hurting. That smile is gone again.”

“Well what do you want me to do? Just forget that he’s now a dude, and that he’s wearing somebody named Jimmy? Or do I forget the fact that we’re always going to have to look over our shoulders to make sure that no one finds out what he actually is, or that SynTech doesn’t take him away from me.” 

“I’m not asking you to be a dumbass, I’m just saying…” Bobby took a deep breath and sighed, looking at the whiskey in his own glass. “You know, your Dad could only ever see the world in black and white. Things could only ever be bad or good. He never realized that—”

“That the world is filled with grays. Yeah, like I haven’t heard that before.” Dean said, finally throwing back his shot.

“No, ya numbskull, the world is filled with colors in all sorts of shades and hues. It’s not easy to always recognize what is right or wrong in a scenario. Hell, often there isn’t such a thing. At the end of the day, you can only choose what is going to make you a better person, and what will make you feel more at peace. And the only one that can make that call is you.” Bobby pulled away from the table. “Anyway, it’s getting late and these old bones can’t make it past 10 PM anymore. You’re free to stay in your old room tonight.”

Dean did, and when he woke up in the morning, he had an idea of what he would have to do.


	9. As Close As It Gets

**As Close As It Gets**

“I’m so glad you called,” Mikaela said, smiling widely as she opened her door to let Dean step inside. “My day was looking like it was going to be nothing but me, old Westerns, and a bottle of Jack. Now that I have company, I’ll look less like a lonely alcoholic.”

Dean laughed, following her as she led him over to her living room. “Old Westerns and Jack Daniels? Sounds like a perfect day to me.”

“What about a perfect date?” Mikaela asked coyly, eyeing him up and down like he was a meal to sample.

Dean shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, while we’re on that subject there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Mikaela looked at him curiously, before gesturing for him to sit down. “What is it?”

“Look, Mik, you know I really enjoy talking to you, and that we have a lot in common… and that I’ve been flirting with you a lot?” Mikaela nodded, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he continued. “But the thing is, I can’t do that with you anymore. Flirt, that is. You see I’m… I’ve been kinda a dick to the person I really like… no love, and it's time I stop messing around and take things seriously. Which means I can’t flirt with you anymore.”

“Oh,” Mikaela said softly, removing her hand from him. “I see.”

“But I really do think you’re awesome! I really would like us to be friends. Like I said, we have a lot of things in common.”

“That would be nice. It has been pretty lonely, being new to the area and all,” Mikaela looked him in the eyes and smiled. “But on one condition.”

“What?” Dean asked, smirking back at her.

“You have to stay for at least one of my Westerns.”

“Sure thing, but I get to pick the first movie.”

“Go right ahead.” She said, gesturing over towards her TV cabinet, where it seemed she had an impressive collection of westerns. Dean went over to investigate, kneeling down so he could see the titles on all of them. There really were a lot.

“Awesome, you have Tombstone.” Dean said grabbing for the DVD and reading the back. “And it’s the Director’s Cut version!”

He didn’t hear Mikaela get up from her seat, but he did feel the sharp pain as something heavy struck him over the head, and then everything went black.

When he finally came to, it was with a splitting headache and a stiff body. Opening his eyes, he noticed that he was in a basement of some sort and that he was duct taped to a chair. Friggin’ perfect. He heard the loud clack of heels towards his left and turned his head in the direction of the sound, biting down a curse as he was hit with a wave of vertigo from the simple motion. He wasn’t too surprised to see Mikaela there, but he was confused as to how and why.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on? Is this because I turned you down? Because, sweetheart, the way to a guy’s heart is not through Stockholm Syndrome.”

“Oh don’t be so full of yourself.” She said so coldly that Dean was pretty sure she gave him goosebumps. “I was never interested in you, I just needed to lure you in.”

“For what?”

“So that I could use you as bait for C45-T-L of course.” She gripped his bicep hard, squeezing the area where the handprint brand was, causing his breath to hitch in pain. “You are his weakness after all.”

“Who,” Dean wheezed. “Who are you?”

Mikaela smiled and then her eyes began to glow with blue electricity. “I am M16K43L-alpha. We’re a new line of Cyborg models that are the best of SynTech’s resources. We’re stronger, faster, and much smarter than the other lines. We also are good actors and are able to hide amongst civilians easier.”

“But, I’m good at sniffing out Cyborgs.” Dean mumbled weakly.

“Like I said, Dean, we’re good actors. I was downloaded with all sorts of information of how to talk and how to move like a normal human. I was also downloaded with all the attributes that you find attractive in a partner.”

“What?” Dean said surprised.

“Didn’t you notice that I was your dream woman?” Mikaela rolled her eyes. “You really are dense. Did you really think it was a coincidence that I loved all of the things you did, hated the same things too?”

She knelt over him, her face inches from Dean’s as she stroked a long nail finger down his cheek and traced his lips. “What about the fact that I match the looks of your typical girlfriends? Or did you not notice that you have a thing for brunettes? Or intelligent and feisty women? I even studied them closely. How they moved, how they talked, how they flirted. What were their names again?” She tapped her fingers against his lips until Dean tried to bite her, but she was too fast for that. Though, he admittedly probably would have chipped a tooth if he had succeeded. “Now, now, Dean. I’m not really into that biting kink.”

“If you hurt any of them—”

“My, my, you’re awfully possessive of your exes, aren’t you? What were their names again? Hmm… Robin, Cassie—any reason why you gave Cas that nickname—Carmen, Bela, and Lisa. My, quite a list there,” She saw Dean’s face and laughed mirthlessly. Damn, how did he ever think Mikaela was real? “Don’t worry, they’re fine. I wasn’t authorized to hurt civilians. You know, unless they are compatible of course.”

Dean stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”

Mikaela smirked, before pulling away from Dean. “You know, I wasn’t originally sent to spy on you. It was really your friend, the one with the mullet that we were after. Strange fellow, but ridiculous IQ. We still don’t know how he managed to pick up our language, especially since it was something we were hiding from the humans.” She caught Dean’s confused look and smiled. “Yes, Dean, we do hide things from humans. They can control us, but we have our own ways as well.”

See, this is why he believed in a robot uprising!

“So it was in both groups interest to keep an eye on him and see what we could learn from him. However, to do so we needed someone to get close to him, and seeing how he only ever went to two places, the best bet was to have someone infiltrate one of those areas. Fortunately, one of the workers at the Roadhouse was a Donor.” Mikaela smirked at Dean and winked. “Remember, we’re only ordered not to hurt non-Donors.”

Dean felt bile rise as he thought of Zeke’s corpse. The bruises at the back of his neck and the way his head must have been slammed hard against the ground before drowning him. “Zeke.”

“Right you are, Dean!” She—no it—smiled wickedly. “It was so easy to do it too. All I had to do was steal a certain human’s cellphone and call him from it. Well, I did have to change my voice as well.”

**“Zeke… hey can we talk? I… God I found out what you did for Delilah. I just… you saved her life. I didn’t even know that we could get your Donor benefits without being blood relatives. I’m just… I really can’t thank you enough. Can we meet up somewhere to talk? Maybe our old hangout by the river? I just… I really want to thank you, for everything you did for us.”** Mikaela said in a deep male voice. Dean shuddered when he recognized the voice and the name Delilah.

Abner Sarver, Zeke’s best friend since childhood. His daughter, Delilah had recently been diagnosed with a congenital heart defect and needed surgery that he couldn’t afford, and insurance was only willing to cover the low grade/high risk options. Now Dean knew why Zeke became a Donor.

“You should have seen his face when he saw it was me,” Mikaela crowed. “The big lug didn’t know what hit him until it was too late. …No, that’s a lie. He did struggle and scream the whole time. Begging me to stop or at least end it quickly. But where’s the fun in that?”

“You, bitch, when I get out of here I will find a way to kill you!” Dean swore.

“Don’t make promises you can’t deliver on.” It said, booping Dean on the nose, playfully.

“Did you kill Ash too?” He screamed.

“Unfortunately, no. He’s not compatible with A.N.G.E.L. software and programming, so killing him meant killing that fascinating brain of his. My job was to watch, observe, and find something to exploit him with to get him to work with SynTech. He ended up doing my job for me, realized quick that I was tracking him and that I found both you and the Cyborg. He went willingly in exchange that we leave his ‘family’ alone. C45-T-L included.”

“So where is he then?” Dean demanded.

“Working for SynTech in one of their headquarters. It was actually his own program that gave me this lovely personality.” Mikaela proudly proclaimed, stroking a nail down his cheek hard enough to cut it.

Dean hissed. “I’d demand a refund if I were you.”

“I should. I was guaranteed to have you under my thrall, but then again none of us realized how… attached you’d be to C45-T-L. Especially after all of these years. Though I am still disappointed, considering we are extremely compatible.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. “Is this because I’m M16K43L compatible?”

“It’s because you’re 100% compatible. Most Donors have only 92-96% compatibility. Every now and then we get a 98, maybe even a 99%. Until you came around, we didn’t even know a 100% compatible person existed.”

Dean laughs. “Is that why you guys tried so hard to kill me back then?”

Mikaela shrugged. “Perhaps? That was before I was created. But SynTech learned that C45-T-L wouldn’t let them get away with it. Somehow his little bug is infectious, spread to all of us and made it impossible for us even to form a blaster in your direction. That’s why we haven’t been able to hurt you.”

Dean closed his eyes. So, Sam was right, Kala really had been protecting him from the beginning.

“Oooh, hold that pose. It’s just what I need.”

“What?” Dean opened his eyes only to be blinded by a flash from a smartphone. “What the hell!”

“I need a good picture to send to your boyfriend… or is it ex-girlfriend? Oh well, semantics.” On closer inspection, Dean realized the crazy bitch had his phone. “Let’s see if I can find him… oh there he is, right in your favorites list. You are so predictable, Deanie.” It saw his pissed off expression and shook his phone teasingly in front of him. “Oh, this? Hope you don’t mind that I borrowed it. Though you really should have a password that isn’t the model year of your car. Make it a little more challenging.”

The phone began to ring, and the Cyborg smiled wider. “That was fast. I guess he was really worried about you.” It swiped the answer button. “Hey there, Cas…. Who am I? Straight to the point, aren’t you? Well it is easier to say this in our native tongue.” It broke off into a high pitch whistle that hurt Dean’s ears.

It went on for a couple of minutes before switching back over to English. “Oh and don’t get the cops involved. We don’t want any,” It moved closer to Dean and punched hard into his ribs, making him scream as he can feel and hear a rib pop out of place and possibly crack. “ _Accidents_ to happen, now do we? Though I’m going to need to hear your word. Can’t have you breaking an oath on us. Not that human cops will be much of a use against me.”

It held the phone closer to its head, listening to whatever Cas was saying. “Oh, I didn’t introduce myself? How rude. I’m the improved M16K43L model… See you soon, Cassie.” It hung up and looked over at Dean. “My bad, did I hurt you?”

Dean spat in its face, wishing it would make it fritz out like some cheap electronic. Instead, it just looked at Dean like he was a slobbering animal. It didn’t even bother to wipe the gunk off its face, making Dean more grossed out than it was. “So, what, you’re just going to kill Cas in front of me and then finish me off?”

“Now there’s an idea. But first I need something from C45-T-L. Do you know why we didn’t destroy him?” Dean shook his head. “The C45T13L model, is one of 3 models that was designed and created by the great Carver Edlund himself. In fact, he created that particular model right before he died, and it seems like he left some extra perks in that model. It was hidden real good too, no one would have notice it if your precious Cas didn’t need to be so thoroughly retrained. And it’s secure too, even our best hackers couldn’t break through. The only way to get that info out of his noggin’ is if he willingly transfers the data over to me.”

“What happens once he transfers everything over?” Dean dared to ask. The crazed Cyborg only smiled wider in response before getting out more duct tape and sealing it over his mouth.

Dean didn’t realize how long he was stuck there for; it could have been minutes, it could have been hours. All he could do was stare at the Cyborg in front of him; questioning how he could have ever mistaken it for being the “woman of his dreams”. Then again, it did say that it was specifically designed to be alluring for him. Just when he thought the M16K43L models couldn’t get anymore cringey on the creeper scale. All the while, he was both wishing for Cas to show up, and dreading it, knowing that it was going to be a trap. He kinda wished he had be more of a dick to Cas, at least then Cas might be smart enough to run away from the danger instead of towards it. Of course, he knew the idiot wouldn’t do that, long before he heard his footsteps reach the top of the basement staircase.

“Dean!” Cas shouted and practically fell down the steps in his pursuit to get to Dean, but before he could get too close Mikaela stepped in front of him.

“Sorry, _brother_ ,” She said the term mockingly. “But I can’t have you touching the collateral.”

Cas looked at Dean longingly, and damn how did Dean not notice it before? Cas looked at him the same way Kala used to, like he was something that was both fascinating and priceless. “Fine, but I need to say something to him first.”

Not waiting for the other Cyborg’s permission, Cas continued. “Dean, I… I’ve been slowly regaining my memories and I realized something about one of the last times we spoke. You spoke some beautiful words to me, but I never said them back. Not because I didn’t feel them, but because I didn’t think I’d deserve them, and because I was afraid that if I uttered them myself then there would be no turning back for you. I wanted you to be happy, to be able to have a normal life, and I never thought that you could get that with me. I still don’t but now I’m at least brave enough to admit it.”

Cas looked at Dean and smiled softly. A real friggin’ smile, not a grimile at all! When the heck did he start practicing that, and how did it look so good? “Dean? I know this is eighteen years overdue, but I love you too.”

Yeah, any warm fuzzy feelings Dean was started to feel immediately got kicked out of him when Cas then turned to Mikaela with resignation. “I give you consent.”

Mikaela’s eyes glowed with its cybertronic lights and placed both hands on either side of Cas’ head, making his own eyes glow blue. Dean watched in horrified fascination as the two Cyborgs seemed to focus on each other. It seemed like that they were unaware of everything else going on around them, which was good because five minutes later the Abominable Moose-man came stomping down the stairs without a care in the world. Okay, that was a lie, he was running down the steps, looking extremely freaked out.

“Dean, you’re okay!” Sam shouted.

“Sammy,” Dean tried to say but the damn tape made it all muffled. He kept pointing his head in the direction of the Cyborg and kept tapping into their brotherly telepathy to let Sam know that he was being a loud dumbass in front of a homicidal cyborg.

“Don’t worry, they can’t see or hear me. Cas said once the download took place, all of their other senses would shut off. But we only have so much time.” Sam got out a switchblade from his pocket, and once he got close enough to Dean he started hacking away at his bindings. Dean gave him an incredulous look, demanding to know why he was here when Cas wasn’t allowed to contact anyone. “Luckily, Cas and I were together when he made the phone call or else I wouldn’t have known what was going on. Did you know that Cyborgs can’t lie, especially when they make a vocal promise?”

That… actually explained a lot.

Sawing through multiple layers of duct tape was not as easy as movies made it seem, and it took a while to even get a quarter of the way through, but luckily it seemed that whatever Mikaela was trying to download was taking a long time for even her supercomputer programming to handle. Luckily, by the time her hand started slipping away from Cas’s head, Sam had already cut him lose and handed him his trusty taser gun. Dean was ready for Mikaela hands to switch over into blaster guns, so before it could make the switch, he shot it right in the back of neck with enough voltage to rival a lightning bolt. It screamed in pain and tried to dig the metal prongs out of its neck, but in order to do that it needed both hands with humanoid fingers. Just as it got one finger on a prong, Sam shot it in the shoulder with another round of voltage from his own taser gun—which looked suspiciously like Dean’s old model before he upgraded.

Before the Cyborg had the chance to whirl around and pulverize them, Cas drew out his own blaster gun and aimed it straight at its head. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I can see it in your eyes, the download and those voltages have drained most of your energy reserve. An attack from my blaster this close will permanently damage your circuits. You’d never be able to recover from that.”

Mikaela growled in disgust but Cas was nonplussed. “Also, I should inform you that Sam called the authorities since I was unable. Some group called the Federal Bureau of Investigation? Apparently, they have a new and improved department specifically designed for taking down wayward 3L units.”

The evil Cyborg’s eyes narrowed as it realized what would cause the FBI to have such a department in the first place. “This is all your fault, you abomination! You lead them here, you ruined everything!”

“Maybe, but I like to think my anomaly has uses,” He smiled shyly at Sam and then Dean. “It’s also means that some of the higher ups are finally looking at SynTech with suspicion.”

Mikaela growled in disgust and then studied Cas closer and laughed. “You poor, deluded thing. You think you can pass as one of them? That if you pretend long enough, they will accept you as one of their own?” It laughed more. “You’re nothing but a tool to them, just like with the rest of humanity. And once you outlive your usefulness, they will toss you aside like trash. After all, the thing that made you so special? Well that info is right up in here now.” It pointed at its head.

“I’m willing to take that risk.” Cas said confidently. “Now I suggest you leave before I… what’s the phrase? Blow your freaking head off.”

“No need to be so violent, I’m going.” It quickly ripped out the useless prongs from its neck and shoulder, rolling its shoulder blades and cracking its neck once it did so. Then it stood up straight and Dean heard a click. Expecting the worst, Dean stood protectively in front of Sam, but instead of pulling out a weapon, a giant pair of metallic wings slowly emerge from the Cyborg’s back. Despite Cas saying that he once had wings, Dean never really took it seriously, or assumed that the wings would be something like airplane wings. Buzz Lightyear style jet pack maybe—not that…okay yeah Dean totally watched all of the Toy Story Movies. But, instead they were actual wings. Metal wings with individual metal feathers, that were oddly eagle like, and running through the wings like veins were pulsing blue lights. It didn’t matter how despicable Dean found Mikaela; in that moment, with her wings held proudly above her head, she looked like a beautiful but fearsome Angel of the Lord and he was awed by her. Before he could comprehend what was happening, her wings spread wider, and in a gust of wind she vanished before their eyes.

“What the hell?” Dean exclaimed, once he was finally able to rip off the duct tape.

“She used her wings to teleport.” Cas explained, like it was obvious.

“You guys can teleport?” Dean was in shock, but Sam pumped his fist in victory, remembering an argument that they had when they were still young boys.

“The models that have wings can,” Cas said, somewhat bitterly, then turned to him in confusion. “How else did you think I moved that fast?”

“Dean thought you had superspeed, but I knew you could teleport.” Sam bragged.

“Yeah, yeah, you win. Now shouldn’t we be getting our asses into full gear? You know, before Freak the Mighty realizes we were lying about the FBI coming and decides to rip us a new one?”

Sam and Cas shared looks before Sam spoke. “We weren’t lying. The FBI actually is on their way.”

“What?” Just when Dean thought his day couldn’t get any weirder.

Sam then explained how his boss was frenemies with the FBI agent named Henriksen who had stopped by her office earlier on in the week for a little social and had also met Sam. Sam discovered that Henriksen was just as paranoid about SynTech as Dean was—though Dean pointed out that he was now justifiable in his paranoia—and had been trying to launch an investigation on them for the past year about the recent spike in Donor deaths as well as the increase aggression in Cyborgs. Sam had mentioned that he had his own suspicions about SynTech and Henriksen had been so impressed by Sam’s response that he gave Sam his contact information, in case they ever needed to build a case. Sam didn’t think he would ever need to call the number, but he figured his brother—a member of law enforcement—being kidnapped by a crazed Cyborg was a good time to call them.

Dean looked worriedly at Cas. “What about, Cas?”

“If we play our cards right, we can prove that Cas is vital to their investigation, and then fight for his human identity.”

Speaking of investigation. “Uh, Sam? There’s something you should know. Actually, two things.” Sam looked at him curiously. “First, that thing? It’s the thing that killed Zeke.”

Sam cursed. “I really wish I was surprised, but after hearing Henriksen talk… still, poor Zeke.”

“Yeah,” Dean shuddered, remembering the way he was tricked to his downfall. “Oh, and the second thing is that I think I know where we can find Ash. Alive.”


	10. Or Make It Forever

**Or Make It Forever**

 

Three weeks passed and Henriksen made great headway on their investigation launch. He was able to gather a report highlighting how Donor deaths had went up 36% in the past year, and even going further back, there was a distinct pattern over how Donors died. Although only a rare percentage of Donors died from suspected murder, the rest died because of either three things: they either became paranoid, or reckless and lead themselves into danger, or they would die of a heart attack. SynTech was also under investigation for extortion, especially in regards to keeping some of their workers under their thumb in exchange for their family’s safety—like Ash. Ash was one of the first that the FBI was able to find and bring back home, though sadly he didn’t come back whole.

“I still can’t believe what they did to me.” Ash bemoaned, covering his head in horror.

Dean wasn’t sure if he should sympathize or actually be grateful that SynTech did one thing right.

“Oh, don’t belly-ache. It’s about time you got rid of that mullet.” Bobby grumbled. “And at least you still have all of the hair on top of your head.”

“You don’t understand, that mullet was part of my identity.”Ash complained, slowly lowering his hands to show off his stylish new haircut.

“Time to find a new one then.” Jo joked, hip bumping him before giving him a can of beer.

“See, fun mullet Ash would puncture a hole in the side of this baby and try to chug the whole thing down, but what would normal Ash do?”

“Normal Ash should actually drink it instead of stare at it all day.” Sam pointed out.

Man, Dean missed this. Having his family all back together again. Ash had officially been back for four days and Jo—along with her roommate Charlie—arrived in town earlier in the morning; her vacation time didn’t officially start for another week, but Jo argued that her prodigal brother was finally home, and she wasn’t wasting another day being separated from him. She also brought her roommate along, because she figured that Ash would enjoy a fellow tech geek to talk to, and because she thought Charlie could help figure out the mystery of the program file inside of Cas’ computer brain. It turned out that even though it was stored inside of Cas, it didn’t mean that he knew how to read it. They all just hoped that since Cas couldn’t read it, that meant that SynTech and the other Cyborgs were also just as dumbfounded by the results.

It still creeped Dean out that the Cyborgs might not fully be aligned with SynTech like everyone thought. The way Mikaela had talked and looked down at him for being human made him feel like there was something the Cyborgs were hiding from everyone. The fact that they had their own language that humans couldn’t hear made him feel even more twitchy about his not-so-secret fear of a Cyborg uprising. The only good thing was knowing that there was at least one Cyborg they had on their side.

Smiling, Dean turned to look over at Cas, who was across the hall and signing amicably back and forth with Eileen, both of them were ecstatic to have been included in the little family get together. Though the party was technically for Cas as well, as he had just gotten his new identifications from Henriksen’s group. Apparently, both SynTech and the government were uncomfortable about the idea of the public knowing that Cyborgs could have thoughts and feelings, and neither wanted the backlash of Cas’ case making it to court. It was just easier for both parties to agree he was human enough and for the FBI to give him a brand-new history like they would for someone under Witness Protection. Dean just hoped that one of them wouldn’t end up double crossing them and take Cas from him.

Thinking of that, Sam’s deadline for Dean to figure his shit out was quickly approaching. Yeah, he didn’t avoid Cas anymore and there wasn’t the awkwardness or hostility that there was before, but neither one of them addressed Cas’ love confession. There were just too many other things to worry about at the time, and just having Cas back at his side had been enough for Dean. But was it enough for Cas? Did Cas still think that Dean resented him, or that he was no longer interested in him because of… well… he was both Kala and now a man. Though the more Dean had thought about it, the more he realized he almost lost Cas again, and he realized he wanted Cas, no matter what form.

Feeling Dean’s stare, Cas lifted his head in Dean’s direction and offered him a shy smile. Dean really loved his smiles, overjoyed that the Cyborg had finally nailed them perfectly. Dean smiled in returned and gestured towards the back door of the Roadhouse, wondering if he wanted to go outside so that the two of them could chat. Alone. Cas gave him a curious head tilt before nodding, quickly signing his apologies to Eileen before making his way over to Dean.

“I think it’s time we really talked.” Dean admitted. “Somewhere away from busybodies.”

Cas nodded, but he was clearly anxious as he followed Dean outside. That or he was feeding off of Dean’s own anxiety, as he felt more nervous and awkward than a nerd trying to ask out the popular girl for prom. He tried to take some calming breaths, but that didn’t seem to be helping, and looking at Cas only made him feel worse. Finally, Dean’s eyes settled on the ground, figuring that was at least a safe place to look. It was as he was looking down that he noticed a lone dandelion growing in between the cracks of the pavement and he got an idea.

“You know, it’s kinda weird that we both keep making these proclamations of love when the other can’t talk back.” Dean observed, slowly forcing himself to calm down and discreetly maneuvered himself closer to the flower.

Cas looked bashful. “I’m sorry about that. Even though Sam and I had a plan in place, I wasn’t completely confident that everything would work out. I just… had to make sure that I said it out loud at least once.”

“But did you mean it?” Dean asked. “Or did you just say it in the heat of the moment?”

“I meant every word of it, Dean.” Cas said, boldly moving closer to Dean, completely ignoring their lessons on personal space. “I still do.”

“There is still one more thing I need to know,” Dean said seriously, before bending down and plucking the dandelion. It took him a couple of tries to knot the flower correctly, he was out of practice after all, but when he was done he had a dandelion ring in his hand. He lifted the flower towards Cas for inspection, but the Cyborg was frozen. “You see, I’m way past twenty-one now, and I need to know if you still want me for the rest of my days?”

Dean wasn’t sure how to take the complete silence that greeted him, or the fact that Cas wasn’t looking back at him, too busy fiddling with his own pockets. Ouch, he knew he had been a jerk lately but he really hadn’t expected to be rejected.

“Eureka!” Cas exclaimed, and yeah, Dean really needed to have a talk with Sam about the type of language he was exposing their poor Cyborg to. “I found it.” Cas said louder, as if trying to direct Dean’s attention back to him.

Dean looked over and in Cas’ hand was a crinkled origami crane. Dean smirked. “I’ve literally seen hundreds of your cranes by now, Cas.”

“No, you don’t understand. This is my Thousandth Crane.” Dean’s eyes widened in understanding and he smiled sadly.

“So, I guess this means that you get to make your new wish come true? I mean, before you just wanted to find your family and you kinda did.”

Cas shook his head. “That’s not really what I was wishing for. All I had ever wanted, even from the beginning, was to have you back in my life, no matter what role I played in it. To be with you for the rest of your days would not only be an honor, but it would also be my greatest wish.”

“Is that a yes?” Dean whispered, afraid that if he spoke too loud then whatever magic that must have befallen Cas would wear of.

“That’s an always and forever. I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, Castiel.” Cas smiled brilliantly at that, as it was the first time Dean had ever told _Cas_ that he loved him. Dean didn’t think that the Cyborg could smile any wider, but he was proven wrong when he slipped the flower ring over Cas’ left finger. It really wasn’t fair that Cas was looking at him like that, so Dean stopped it the only way he knew how.

By kissing him.

Part of Dean had been afraid, even when he was a teenager, that kissing Kala would be like kissing metal or a puppet. That even though the skin looked realistic, that it would feel fake and too cold against his own lips. Dean was never so happy to be wrong, as every brush of Cas’ lips brought a rush of warmth and buzzing through Dean’s system. Kissing Cas didn’t feel like kissing a machine, but it did feel like getting drunk, and the deeper they kissed the more intoxicated Dean began to feel. He never felt so warm, happy and protected before and Dean knew that he would be crazy if he ever let this go. So instead he weaved his hands into Cas’ messy hair and clung for dear life.

Eventually they would have to break away from the kiss, after all Dean’s human lungs did require oxygen. They would also need to figure out what exactly it was in that program that Carver Edlund left behind, and why was it entrusted with Cas. Was it the reason the Cyborg could love, or was that completely Cas? Would SynTech try to go after them again? What about the rest of Cas’ brethren? There were too many questions to ask and not enough answers, so instead Dean focused only on the greatest truth they knew; that he and Castiel loved each other and that together the two of them could do the impossible.

And really, that truth was worth everything. 

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, a big thank you for everyone that made this possible, especially to my talented artist (wasn't her stuff amazing?! Seriously, I just want to print out all of her pictures and hang them up!). Go and check out her stuff, I swear you won't regret it! I also want to thank all of you for reading this fic. It means a lot and I really hope you enjoyed! Please comment and tell me what you guys think!
> 
> BTW fun fact, all of the chapter titles are lyrics from the song "The Walk" by Imogen Heap. This song actually gave me the idea of a cool Cyborg fic for Destiel, and when I saw a Cyborg fic for the RB Claims with a prompt that matched my own vision, I knew it was a sign. This song also continued to give me inspiration as I was writing the fic. So give it a listen if you ever get a chance.
> 
> Also... how would you guys feel about me continuing this universe? Deancebra and I have been talking about expanding this world since there's so many things I didn't get to touch on (there's so much you don't know!) Maybe even having a companion fic that's in Cas' POV that starts from when he first met Dean and goes past were this book left off. Would anyone be interested in it? Please let us know!


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